


Shine So Bright

by ohnoscarlett



Series: Something Magical [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, NC-17 (sex, some language)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoscarlett/pseuds/ohnoscarlett
Summary: The world has undergone a series of changes that have left it much different from the one we know.  Most of the human population has disappeared.  Many of those who are left have evolved into something more.  Something magical.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by [](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/profile)[cloudlessclimes](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/). Title courtesy of Patrick Stump. This is a work of fiction. Consider this a prelude to [State of Love and Trust ](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/17011.html#cutid1), written for the 2011 [](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/profile)[bandomvalentine](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/).

**Title:** Shine So Bright  
 **Band(s):** PATD (plus some random cameos!)  
 **Pairing:** Spencer/Brendon  
 **Word Count:** 20433  
 **Rating/Warnings:** NC-17 (sex, some language)  
 **Summary:** The world has undergone a series of changes that have left it much different from the one we know. Most of the human population has disappeared. Many of those who are left have evolved into something more. Something magical.  
Spencer is a student at the Western Academy of Magic. He learns how to control his innate magical abilities, how to harness the magic he doesn't hold inside, and how to fall in love with Brendon without getting them both killed.  
 **Notes:** Beta by [](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/profile)[**cloudlessclimes**](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/). Title courtesy of Patrick Stump. This is a work of fiction. Consider this a prelude to [State of Love and Trust ](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/17011.html#cutid1), written for the 2011 [](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/profile)[**bandomvalentine**](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/).

  
They could trace back to when the change in the world began. It really started when people--at least the ones in power--lost their connection to the earth. Searching for the almighty oil became paramount, above all else. Maintaining fragile ecosystems was practically a non-issue.

Drilling in the Arctic really was what did it. They didn’t stop to think about all the possible side-effects massive human activity could have on the delicate landscape. Ships got stuck, trapped, in the ice all the time. Ice was powerful. Ice could take care of itself. Apparently not. Accumulated vibrations from various drilling operations slowly broke the ice apart.

It didn’t reform. It didn’t refreeze. The crumbled ice caps spread south for a short time, but even the largest pieces couldn’t last in warmer water. The ice melted, and the sea levels rose, just a fraction. It was enough.

The minimal changes in sea level and ocean temperature spawned further changes. The Arctic ice had been a floating mass; it already displaced a certain amount of water. It’s breakup didn’t result in significant rise, any more than one would expect from a glass of ice water allowed to melt. It was the melting in Greenland, whose significant ice sheets brought about a sea level rise of about twenty feet.

The secondary melt started a literal avalanche of change in Antarctica. The southern continent was covered in a massive ice sheet, often up to 7000 feet thick. It had been considered mostly stable--land-based and frigid; unlikely to melt. But the loss of the Greenland Ice was a big enough change, enough to throw off the fragile balance of the sea ice and increase the calving, or the breaking off of ice bergs into open water, and induce a catastrophic breakdown of the entire system.

The result was another 200 feet of sea water.

The inundation of water displaced the shore-based populations, more than one billion people worldwide. In the end, there was not a huge difference in the topography of the American West; not like the Southeast, or Brazil, or Europe. Over ten million people in the States. Mostly in the East, where entire states disappeared under the waves, but the loss of Western cities, like Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, and Seattle, was felt hard.

It really was only the beginning. The sweeping changes in currents, temperature, and sediment and erosion patterns quickly led to changes in surface water quality and ground water characteristics. There was a significant loss of farmland, and in the moderately warmer climate, more precipitation.

It shouldn’t have come as any surprise. People had been predicting similar circumstances for decades. Just, no one ever took it as a serious possibility. Plans had always been proposed, but never implemented. “Do nothing” is always an option--not necessarily the most effective.

The sea level rise was really just the first step. Millions of people were forced into close conditions. Ecosystems changed as a matter of course. Animals found new ranges, and agriculture foundered until the new weather patterns were figured out. It was a mess.

It got worse.

Mass extinctions were brought on by a species-hopping hemorrhagic fever. It was a blood-borne disease, extremely contagious, and wherever it originated, it didn’t stay there long before it spread to all the major population centers and essentially wiped them out, one by one. Everything, from the people down to the cockroaches.

It wasn’t as bad further out, where populations weren’t as dense, and there was the possibility of avoiding contagion with increased distance from outbreaks. People were able to set up quarantine and containment units. They grew careful not to touch anything they didn’t know anything about--difficult for a species well known for not leaving well enough alone.

People grew cautious, but it developed their environmental empathy; they knew what was safe and what they should avoid. Many found that they had a naturally acquired immunity, and while it didn’t tempt them to wander into danger zones, it led to a slow-down and an eventual end to the disease. But not before nearly eighty percent of the world’s population was eradicated.

The whole process took less than a hundred years.

***

By the time of Spencer’s generation, everyone was born with some sense of ecological empathy. They all were connected with the environment; in tune, as it were, with the planet. They were all _Homo sapiens provectus_ , just--some were _more_. It was no coincidence, really, that magis _meant_ more, but it  </i>sounded</i> like magic. Magis were definitely more, definitely magical, and definitely not the standard advanced humans--those who remained after the seas rose, after the animals died.

His colors had started to emerge when he was about two or three. His parents couldn’t tell, of course; he had been toddler-chubby and soft, and that indistinct rosy-pink yet somehow perpetually grimy that little boys always seemed to be. But his skin always seemed translucent, with the veins winding blue-purple just underneath the surface, just under the dirt.

You couldn’t tell. Even now, years later, scientific breakthroughs and technological advances beyond the imaginable, you never know. There isn’t a blood test or genetic screen that can tell parents with any accuracy whether their child will, or won’t. Everyone is a potential carrier, but even that is no guarantee. There is just something that can happen in the magic of the womb, and the result will be a Magis. More.

People with tattoos often have low-level, latent power. They have to be able to make the deal with the artist, the one with the real power. His father has a tattoo up his left forearm. So do many of his friends. So does Brendon.

His mother would read him the star-bellied sneetches story over and over; the one by Dr. Seuss. Some sneetches had stars, and some did not, and in the end, it didn’t matter if they did, or didn’t. It didn’t matter what sort of sneetch you were on the outside, because you were all the same on the inside.

It took a surprisingly long time for him to figure out why his mother was so partial to that story.

A person’s Colors generally indicated their automagical abilities. Red meant fire, Orange had something to do with animals, and Yellow, electricity. Green meant plants, of course, and Blue, water. Indigo meant there was some sort of personal physical ability, whereas Violet was something personal mentally. Black meant earth, and White was the air. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

Everyone with any sort of power was able to heal. Growth and life were so very much connected to the environment that it made sense that so many of the people who were left, the ones who could survive the aftermath, had this sort of ability. It made a huge difference. The specialties you saw, the Colors, often lent a person a particular affinity for something. Like with animals: especially effective healing, but also manipulation, telekinesis, and energy sourcing, although those last often were more common in the non-biologicals.

So in the end, it didn’t matter where you came from (just that you had survived;) it didn’t matter who you were or who you knew; it didn’t matter what color your skin was. What mattered was what color was under your skin. And what you could do because of it. It was a great egalitarian force, and it was beautiful.

Spencer found himself studying at the Western Academy of Magic. It felt like he was at Hogwarts, but American, and slap in the middle of the desert. No Dumbledore, and no Voldemort, but plenty of students with varying magical abilities.

The purpose of the Academy was to sharpen and focus their automagic, but also to teach them regular magic as well. Not everything was innate. They needed help in accessing much of their power, and controlling it. In short, they had to learn. They had to go to school, and the Academy was it.

Everyone still did the whole “K through 12” routine. It’s the way the American system had been set up, and no one really felt the need to change it much. Classes tended to be smaller, what with the drastically decreased population, but no teacher was ever heard to complain about it. In fact, smaller classes were better on a number of levels, academic success not the least of those.

K though 12 education was just regular school. The children still had to learn the alphabet and their numbers; reading, writing, ‘rithmatic, the whole nine. Some families chose to educate their children at home, but most still chose to send them to class. It was there, after all.

The Western Academy of Magic came after all that. It wasn’t university, exactly; they learned magic, for goodness sake. The purpose of the Academy was to bring them all to their full potential. They learned how to use their latent abilities, their automagic, which came easier for some than for others; and they learned how to perform magic outside of their natural skill sets.

There were two options for magical education in North America: the Western Academy of Magic, and the Eastern Academy of Magic. They were both located near former population centers, so they weren’t hard to find, but they remained relatively secluded. The Eastern Academy was in the hills near St. Louis. The Western Academy was outside Las Vegas.

Spencer met Brendon sometime in their first week at the Academy. Spencer’s eighteenth birthday fell at the beginning of the term. Nobody in the first year class really knew anyone else at that point, but they were all excited about being away at the Academy and eager to dive in. Someone threw a party, which quickly became a birthday party, and soon Spencer had met every one of his new classmates, and nearly all of the other classes as well. Parties were enthusiastically attended, whether one was invited or not.

Most of the latter end of what became Spencer’s birthday party descended into a haze. He was pretty drunk, and a little high, and there were a lot of people around and it was kind of messing with his head. When a very tall, gangly, dark-eyed fourth year--fourth? he could have been a professor for all Spencer knew--sweet-talked him into a secluded back hallway, Spencer went willingly enough. He found himself pressed between a firm body and the wall, being kissed breathless. Then his partner slid elegantly to his knees and set to efficiently working open Spencer’s pants. Spencer merely leaned back, blinking stupidly. It never was that easy, and for that, and the fact that his friend was blessedly silent, Spencer sighed and let his dick be sucked out in public where anyone could see, even if it was late, and dark, and kind of out of the way.

That is exactly what happened.

Someone came stumbling around the corner, clearly having been at the party. He was tiny--particularly when compared to the guy at Spencer’s feet--with wild dark hair and horrible red glasses. The look on his face made Spencer’s dick twitch--he liked them dark, okay? and he came without warning down whats-his-name’s throat. The intruder stood stock still, clearly terrified and yet unable to turn tail and run. Spencer sagged, hunching down in on himself, his dick still hard and now spit-slick and shiny and totally out in the open. His partner smirked up at him before leaning in and swirling his tongue around the head of Spencer’s cock, catching up the last little bit of come and licking his lips.

A clatter and a crash brought Spencer’s attention back to the hallway and the little guy watching their scene. At least he had been. When Spencer looked again, all that remained was a broken pair of glasses shattered all over the floor.

Spencer was horrified. He slapped a hand over his face while his friend helpfully tucked him back into his pants.

“Oh, God,” he groaned miserably.

“ _Gabe_ ,” the guy said, standing carefully, but still smirking. He patted Spencer on the back before ambling down the hall back toward the party. “Welcome to the Academy.”

Spencer tried laying low for a while after that. It was next to impossible, though, in a place the size of the Academy--there were probably only about four-hundred students altogether, so everybody knew everyone else in a fairly short amount of time. Thankfully, the guy--Gabe--was discreet, even if he had a reputation for at least trying to deflower the entirety of the incoming class every year since his first. Spencer didn’t really have to deal with him, which was fine. One humiliation per person was plenty. As for the other one, Spencer wasn’t quite so lucky.

In the middle of the second week of the term, Spencer looked up to meet the eyes of his newly-assigned partner in Healing. It was him.

Spencer watched as the color rose in the guy’s face, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. It felt like he was stealing it from Spencer, who knew he was as white as a ghost. There was no doubt that they recognized each other. Spencer could only hope that the guy wouldn’t hold it against him.

Spencer stood and introduced himself, holding out a hand to shake. The guy had the good grace enough to take it. And look him in the eye.

“Brendon,” he said simply, as way of introduction. His voice was deeper than what Spencer would have expected, from such a slight frame. It made him seem bigger than he was, even though he clearly had to look up to meet Spencer’s gaze. “I’m kind of hopeless.”

Spencer frowned.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked. Brendon’s head dropped and he shuffled his feet a little.

“I haven’t been able to, you know, do... much,” he replied sheepishly.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Spencer eyed Brendon cautiously the rest of that day’s session. He hadn’t been kidding; guy couldn’t seal a paper cut. He was friendly and talkative, though, once he decided that Spencer probably wasn’t going to kill him for walking in on him _in flagrante_. They talked more than paid attention to the class.

Spencer was on track to stay for four years, while Brendon was apparently a “fast-tracker”, meaning that he intended to study at the Academy for only two years. It also meant that he probably didn’t have much, if any, automagic. If latent abilities hadn’t manifested by the age of eighteen, they often wouldn’t at all. Such students learned what they could of healing and regular magic, and if the concentrated study didn’t break things free, would move on to college or other pursuits.

Spencer and Brendon not only had Healing together; they also had fire magic.

Between the two of them, Brendon and Spencer manifested all the magical families. Red, fire, was the only one they shared. Spencer tended to cooler magic: Blue, Indigo, Violet. His shoulders were finely traced, and it slipped down his arms like a gossamer mantle. The Colors were faint, even if his magic was strong. It almost looked like frost on a windowpane, delicate and feathery, but in shades of blues and purples. Few people saw it, which suited Spencer fine. His magic was mostly personal anyway.

Spencer was sort of telepathic. And he had incredible stamina. He could perform magical skills over and over and over again, if he needed to. Sometimes he did, because he had terrible control over his water magic, oddly enough, and more often than not would be soaked through and shivering but still able to continue.

Spencer wasn’t clairvoyant. What he could see came directly from someone else’s mind; he didn’t need an external source, or an intermediary. And he hated the word psychic. He felt like an idiot, and besides, it was too vague. Spencer liked to be precise. Telepathy seemed to fit his abilities the best, even if all he could do at this point was receive. Maybe sending was something he could work on.

Brendon was another story. He was eighteen, but his magic had clearly not snapped to. They couldn’t figure it out; Brendon obviously had something going on in there. Spencer had spied early on the flashes of Color poking out from under his shirtsleeve. It took a little prodding, but eventually Brendon rolled up his sleeve to show Spencer the tattoo that was concealed there.

“Why do you cover it up?” Spencer wondered. “It’s awesome.”

Brendon blushed faintly and looked away. His fingers strayed mindlessly along the stretch of vivid colors. Spencer could easily discern not only Red--of course, they did have fire magic together, after all--but also Orange, Yellow, Green, Black, and White. It was kind of an odd choice, a smattering of flowers and _piano keys_ , but Spencer let it go. Spencer would not have chosen to look like a swirly abstract watercolor gone wrong, if given the choice.

“I was afraid that people would think I lied,” he said softly.

“You can’t lie to an artist,” Spencer pointed out reasonably.

“I know,” Brendon shrugged. “But still.”

If Brendon had been able to barter with a tattoo artist and get him to do _that_ , he should have been bursting with magic trying to get free. Spencer himself had been accidentally performing magic from the age of five, much to the chagrin of his harried parents. Spencer liked to blow things up. They didn’t seem to care that he could put out the fires just as easily.

It was an accident, really, that finally did it. While Spencer and Brendon were in the same fire magic class, they weren’t partners as they were in healing. Once they knew they were both in there, though, they tended to try to catch the other’s eye periodically. Brendon usually waved. Spencer usually... well. Spencer usually blew something up. He was showing off, and he knew it. But it didn’t stop him from doing stupid and dangerous things. Until he caught Brendon in a shower of sparks.

Their instructor immediately sent them over to Healing. Brendon’s clothes had caught fire in several places, and while they were swiftly extinguished, Bob hustled them out anyway, just to be safe. Things had been known to happen, and Bob bore the scars to prove it.

Healing wasn’t far from the building where they had fire magic, but it seemed like it took an eternity to get there. Spencer fussed over the scorch marks on Brendon’s shirt and the ash in his hair. He could see clear through to skin in several places, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to take a closer look to make sure that Brendon himself wasn’t burned, or not. Brendon didn’t seem particularly concerned, he just ambled along at Spencer’s side.

Finally, Spencer gave up; he grabbed Brendon’s arm to still him and gave him a good once-over. He completely missed the amused look on Brendon’s face, but he did find several fair-sized patches of angry red skin. Spencer hissed through his teeth and shoved Brendon’s sleeve up as far as it would go. His arm was definitely burned, but not badly. Spencer could take care of it himself; it was his fault Brendon was hurt, after all.

Spencer watched carefully as a fine, pearly green mist swirled between his hands and Brendon’s arm. The redness slowly faded, until at last the skin was as it ever was. Spencer swept a thumb over the spot to test it, make sure it really was completely healed, before he looked up at Brendon.

Brendon stood unnaturally still, watching him. Spencer frowned, and for just a moment was tempted to try to poke at Brendon’s mind--Search him, if he was being at all honest with himself. But he didn’t. Searching when one could just as easily ask a question was considered rude. Spencer had _some_ manners.

“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” Brendon rolled his eyes. “ _Again?_ ”

Brendon merely shook his head.

“No,” he said hesitantly. “It’s... something else. I don’t know...”

Brendon reached out and touched Spencer’s hand. There was a tiny blister near the end of his little finger, neglected for all of Brendon’s hurts. Brendon’s hands were warm, and as Spencer looked down to reach for the other, he saw a flash, or a spark, his entire body tingled, and Brendon dropped him like _he_ was on fire this time.

There was a look like terror flashing in Brendon’s eyes. Spencer took the moment as an invitation. He took both of Brendon’s hands in his and dropped his mental shields so he could take a look. Something was definitely wrong.

Brendon’s mind was a swirl of chaos. Spencer found it hard to concentrate on any one thing and flitted from one place to another without any sort of pattern. Brendon was afraid, but Spencer couldn’t find the source. What he could find was Brendon’s magic. And it was awake.

Spencer came back to himself with a little jump. The look on Brendon’s face was still alarming; his eyes were too wide, and his skin was too pale, except for his bitten-red lips. Spencer squeezed his hands in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“Brendon! _Brendon!_ ” Spencer’s smile faded as he tried--and failed--to soothe Brendon gently. When that didn’t work, he shook him roughly. He didn’t understand what was happening. Brendon’s head snapped back and forth, and his brows furrowed as he focused on Spencer. He only registered Spencer for a moment before he started to shake. Spencer wrapped him in his arms and squeezed. “It’s your _magic_ , Brendon!” Spencer said softly, but even he could clearly hear the awe in his voice.

Brendon pressed himself against Spencer, shaking hard. His arms slipped up and he gripped the back of Spencer’s shirt in tightly clenched fists. Brendon remained silent, but Spencer could feel the hitching in his breath, the hot tears leaking out onto his shoulder.

Spencer just didn’t get it. Brendon _wanted_ to have magic. He clearly displayed all the signs that it was buried inside him somewhere, waiting to be set free. Now, something had happened during that little bit of healing, and Brendon’s magic was ready to go. His reaction to it was strange, to say the least.

Slowly, Brendon’s shaking subsided. His fists unfurled, and he gingerly smoothed the fabric of Spencer’s shirt down his back, over and over again. Spencer just held on. He didn’t know what else to do. He had never been there when someone’s magic awakened. He had never _seen_ it, let alone participated. Spencer didn’t know what to do with himself, so he just held on to Brendon and let himself be petted.

Eventually Brendon relaxed. He rubbed his cheek on Spencer’s shoulder--completely unsubtle, but effective, in that when he looked up, there was no trace of tears. In fact, Brendon smiled so brightly it made Spencer a little wobbly on his feet, grateful that Brendon was there to steady him.

“ _I have magic_ ,” Brendon said somewhat tremulously. Spencer smiled back at him and tugged at a lock of hair curling around Brendon’s ear.

“I knew you did. It had to be in there somewhere.”

“I have _magic_ , Spencer,” Brendon said again, stronger. He gazed over Spencer’s shoulder for a moment, suddenly shifting back to look him in the eye. “Do you know what this means?”

Spencer had no idea.

“I have no idea,” he said bluntly. Brendon laughed.

“It means that I was right! My father, my family, they all--” Brendon’s face darkened. “They all said that I was wasting my time, thinking about magic. That nobody in the family had ever had even a trace of power, and I was deluding myself if I thought that I--” He cut himself off suddenly and shook his head.

“No, tell me,” Spencer pressed gently. “If you want.”

“You don’t want to hear my sob story,” Brendon muttered sullenly. His too-long hair falling into his eyes as he hung his head. Spencer brushed it out of the way, tucking it behind his ear.

“No, I want to hear it.”

Brendon looked up at Spencer then, really looked at him. They both realized that they still stood as they had been and yet were unconcerned as to how it probably looked: the two of them wrapped up in each other, out in the portico between buildings.

Brendon went to take a step back, but Spencer stopped him.

“No, I want--”

Spencer’s head inclined just a fraction, but it was enough. Brendon rose up on his toes and pressed their mouths together. It was chaste, just a light touch, but it held the promise of more. Spencer could feel the heat building inside him as the fire that he knew they both controlled asked for release. It was far too soon for any of that.

Spencer straightened, effectively parting them. Brendon’s eyes were glassy, and his fists were once again clenched in the fabric at his back. Spencer watched as he focused, but then jumped back when a spark snapped between them.

“What the hell?” Spencer yelped, batting frantically at his shirt. It was smoking.

“I’m sorry!”

It didn’t sound like Brendon really meant it though, what with all the laughter mixed in. Spencer scowled.

“Come on.”

Spencer grabbed Brendon’s wrist and dragged him the rest of the way to the Healing building. Sure, Spencer had done a little bit of healing himself, but it was always best to be sure, especially since he wasn’t fully trained. He could have made things worse.

They both got checked out by a Healer once they got there. Brendon was fine, and Spencer was just singed a little around the edges. They were nearly sent on their way when Spencer poked Brendon and shoved him back toward the Academy President’s office.

“You need to go have a talk,” he said, jerking his chin.

Brendon shivered. It was a hundred and five degrees out. Brendon had a weird thing about authority. But he went when Spencer nudged him none-too-delicately again. He cast a look over his shoulder, eyebrows waggling. He’d be fine.

***

Not a whole lot changed when Brendon’s magic awakened. He still had Healing and fire magic with Spencer, and water magic outside while Spencer had it inside. He still studied plants and animals, while Spencer had earth and air magic. Spencer and Brendon would essentially switch schedules in their second year. It didn’t really matter when it all happened. They covered all the bases in the first two years at the Academy.

Brendon really was just a lot more successful. And happier. Not to say that he hadn’t been happy at the Academy before his magic awakened. He seemed fine.

Spencer finally got the whole story out of him one day, after a lot of picking at him about it. And a decent amount of beer. Brendon tended to be fairly talkative under normal circumstances, but get him a little drunk and he’d talk your ear off.

“So what’s your deal?”

Spencer waved a hand in the air, as if that would make his question any clearer. Brendon rolled his neck and scowled exaggeratedly.

“Huh?”

“You are so eloquent sometimes it hurts,” snipped Spencer.

“Fuck you. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Brendon replied, trying to sit up straighter and only managing to slide a little further down onto the rug. They were lounging on the floor in Spencer’s room. The tile floors were slippery, but it was cooler down there.

“Tell me about yourself,” Spencer said finally, once Brendon stopped squirming.

“Am I at an interview?” Brendon grinned.

“We’re friends, right?” Spencer pointed out. “I know, like, nothing about you.”

Brendon squinted out of one eye at Spencer for a long while. Eventually he heaved a sigh, squared his shoulders, and sat up for real.

“Okay. So, I told you how my family was all..”

“Totally not supportive of your magical aspirations?” Spencer offered helpfully.

“Yeah. But like, they weren’t like that about everything. They were strict, but... reasonable, I guess? As long as I did well in school, and kept up with the Church...” Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t quite so good about either of those, but they let me have my music, and--”

“ _Oh!_ I get it now!” Spencer crowed. Brendon merely blinked.

“You’re _highly_ intuitive, Spencer,” Brendon mocked. “I have played piano since I was four years old. It never occurred to you to ask?” He gestured with his tattooed arm. Spencer shrugged and scratched his ear.

“So they let you play the piano, but they wouldn’t let you play with magic?”

“It didn’t really match up with their religious teachings,” Brendon replied softly. Spencer thumped the floor, making him jump.

“Magic doesn’t have anything to do with religion!” he hissed angrily.

“That’s kind of the point.” Brendon hunched down in on himself.

“Well, that’s not fair! You didn’t just go and _decide_ to be magic; it’s part of who you are.”

“Tell them that. They were pissed when I came home with this,” he gestured with his arm again.

“I bet,” Spencer snickered.

“According to them I shouldn’t have been able to get it at all.”

“They should see you now,” Spencer said proudly.

“Yeah,” Brendon said practically into his own chest. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “So. We’re... friends.”

“Well, yeah,” Spencer replied. That should have been obvious.

“Okay.”

“What?” Spencer peered at Brendon closely. He was kind of drunk too, but Brendon was confusing.

“I thought--”

“What?” Spencer asked again, peeling himself off the floor. Brendon remained curled up and small and unsure of himself, and Spencer didn’t like it.

“Maybe you... and I--”

“Brendon,” Spencer stopped him with a touch to his jaw.

Brendon’s skin was scratchy with stubble and caught at Spencer’s fingertips. Spencer had to nudge his chin--once, twice, then firmly turn Brendon’s head to get him to look at him. In his eyes Spencer saw a mixture of hope and fear and any number of other things right there on the surface that Spencer could see if he was paying attention. He didn’t dare go any deeper.

“I’ve been sending you signals forever,” Spencer said, leaning closer.

Their second kiss was sweeter than their first. And dirtier. They were alone and unwatched, uninhibited and hungry. Spencer licked Brendon’s lip, then into his mouth. Brendon groaned softly, and it made Spencer wonder what kind of noises he would make when he touched him.

Brendon unwound himself and twisted around toward Spencer instead. He kissed hard, and kind of sloppy, with a little teeth and a lot of tongue. Spencer was just beginning to smile into it when Brendon climbed into his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Spencer pulled back abruptly.

“Whoa,” he said breathily. Brendon just grinned sheepishly and chewed his lip. It was distracting. Spencer looked down to find his hands on Brendon’s hips. “Wow, I, uh... I mean, whoa.”  
  
“You said that already,” Brendon said, laughing. His fingers twined in the back of Spencer’s hair and it made something warm crawl down his spine.

“I want--”

“Yeah?” Brendon licked his lips. He was practically vibrating. Spencer pushed him off his lap.

“Up on the bed?” he suggested. Brendon cocked his head, interested. “Floor’s too hard.”

Brendon looked down at Spencer’s crotch pointedly.

“So are you.”

Spencer was pretty sure Brendon was going for sexy; what he got was ridiculous.

“Really?” One eyebrow arched skeptically while he held in the laughter threatening to slip out.

“Totally.”

Brendon leaned in for another quick kiss, palming Spencer smoothly before standing up and eyeing the bed. The room spun when Spencer followed him to his feet. He took a moment just to breathe and gain his bearings. Brendon took it as hesitation.

“Look, we don’t have to--”

“No, it’s not--” Spencer sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t really want to be drunk for this.”

“Are you drunk? You had like, three beers,” Brendon sounded incredulous. Spencer snorted.

“I’m kind of a lightweight,” he admitted. “Violets don’t do well with alcohol...”

“I guess so,” Brendon agreed. He closed the distance between them again. “Like I said: we don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to,” Spencer said against Brendon’s mouth. “I’m not that drunk.”

“No?” Brendon’s mouth travelled to Spencer’s jaw, and his ear, then his neck. Spencer was finding it very difficult to stand.

“Just kind of buzzed.” Brendon hummed against his skin, making Spencer shudder. “It’s wearing off.”

“Good.”

Brendon looked straight into Spencer’s eyes and maneuvered him onto the bed. Spencer’s heart hammered in his chest as he lay down on top of the blankets. Brendon’s body covered his and the kisses resumed. Spencer let his hands wander, exploring all the curves and sharp planes that Brendon had to offer. He slipped his thumbs under the waistband of Brendon’s pants for a moment, just to slow down and center himself. It didn’t really work. The rest of his fingers splayed across the curve of Brendon’s widely-admired ass. Then Brendon ground down against him, making Spencer gasp and dig his fingers into Brendon’s flesh.

“Didn’t you just get done telling me you came from a religious family?” he gritted out.

“Misspent youth. Lots of vengeful behavior for a time there,” Brendon replied glibly, grinding his hips into Spencer’s once again.

Brendon knew how to make Spencer squirm. They twisted and ground against each other until they were panting, then Brendon suddenly broke away. Spencer reached for him, but he kept inching down the bed, his dark eyes flashing.

Spencer’s belt fell to the floor with a clunk as Brendon’s clever hands made quick work of his pants. Spencer was struck silent. He could only watch as Brendon reached in and eased his cock out. He stroked the length a couple of times, as if to ensure it’s readiness, then he bent down and took it into his mouth.

Spencer threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no way he was going to last if he _watched_ what Brendon did with his luscious mouth. He twisted his hands in the blankets rather than pushing Brendon’s head down further and further, so much further than he could go, surely. Spencer wanted to arch up, fuck into Brendon’s hot mouth--take him--and the thought startled him. He never thought that was his style. His hips twitched, and Brendon moaned around him, the vibrations rippling through him deliciously. He tried it deliberately, lifting up a fraction of an inch and sliding deeper into Brendon’s mouth. Spencer gave in and looked down his body, at Brendon kneeling between his legs. He thrust up tentatively, watching Brendon’s eyes slip shut as his cock went deeper and deeper. Another thrust, and another, Brendon just sucking him down time and again until Spencer couldn’t help it and bucked up hard, feeling the back of Brendon’s throat. Brendon moaned again, encouragingly, and Spencer whimpered when he let loose of the blanket and grabbed a handful of shaggy dark hair, pulling until Brendon released him. He came in thick spurts across his own stomach, Brendon’s chin, and the corner of his mouth, Brendon watching him hotly.

Brendon licked his lips, catching some of Spencer’s come on his tongue, his eyes widening in surprise. Spencer snickered weakly, stopping abruptly when Brendon licked a broad stripe across his belly and flicked his tongue up to the tip of his dripping cock. He shivered, and Brendon grinned.

Spencer rolled them, effectively switching their positions.

“What do you like?” Spencer asked, looking down at Brendon before reaching for his still-fastened pants. Brendon’s erection practically sprang free of it’s own volition, he was so hard. “Come on, Brendon,” Spencer continued. “Tell me. Don’t make me look.”

Brendon shot him a glance that almost dared Spencer to do it. So he did. Spencer’s fingers teased along Brendon’s length, but his magic pushed against Brendon’s mind. It tickled a little at the edge. Spencer knew that Brendon was aware of shielding, but he clearly wasn’t doing it. He hesitated a moment, unsure. He had never used magic during sex before. It was very hard to concentrate. Very easy to go too far.

Brendon’s mind was surprisingly open and clear. He was focused on Spencer, who saw what he had asked for quite easily and popped back out with a start.

“You want me to--”

“Yes.”

Spencer opened his mouth and nothing came out so he shut it again. Brendon smiled up at him and thrust lazily into the hand that Spencer had clasped around him. He stretched, arms reaching up to grasp the headboard, body undulating sinuously against the blankets.

“Please,” he said sweetly. “I want you to. I want to come with you inside me.”

Spencer really couldn’t argue with that.

Their clothes came off in a flurry of motion, landing in little heaps all over the floor. When they were naked, Spencer took a moment to just look at Brendon stretched out before him. He was lovely--not ever something Spencer would dare to tell him. Spencer had seen his temper flare in reaction to similar comments in the corridors, and he didn’t want Brendon to think he was teasing. So he just looked, and appreciated silently. Plus it gave him a minute to get it together; Spencer was kind of flipping his shit.

Brendon seemed to notice Spencer’s hesitation. His hands slid up Spencer’s arms, squeezing a little. He drew Spencer down to him again for a kiss.

“Just touch me, Spencer,” he said against Spencer’s mouth, gently pushing Spencer’s hands in the direction he wanted them.

Spencer’s hands skimmed Brendon’s sides. He was skinny, and Spencer could practically count his ribs as he passed. He paused at Brendon’s hips, tracing the bone with his thumb until Brendon grabbed his hand. Together they wrapped their hands around Brendon’s cock, Brendon guiding him, showing him how fast, how hard. It let Spencer settle into it.

But Brendon was restless. His hips stuttered, and his head thrashed from side to side. Spencer reached up to brush the sweaty hair from his forehead only to have Brendon grasp his wrist and suck two fingers in his mouth. Spencer startled, jerking Brendon a little rough. Brendon only moaned around his fingers, licking between them. Spencer got the hint.

His fingers were wet to the third knuckle when Spencer pulled them from Brendon’s mouth. He looked at them for a moment. They were slick and shiny and he knew exactly what Brendon wanted him to do, just...

“Come on,” Brendon encouraged, thrusting up into Spencer’s fist.

Spencer almost shook his head to clear it. He couldn’t believe he had Brendon in his bed, naked, spread out and practically begging for him to fuck him. Spencer hadn’t been kidding--he’d been sending thinly veiled signals to Brendon for weeks, hoping for him to make a move. Now that he had him where he wanted him, though, Spencer was a little nervous.

He had to make an admission.

“I’ve never--”

“What?” Brendon stopped squirming and lifted his head to stare at Spencer. “I _know_ you’ve--”

“Just blowjobs,” Spencer replied, blushing and shaking his head. Brendon just looked at him, making Spencer blush harder and look away. Brendon touched his cheek.

“I’ll walk you through it,” he said, fighting back a smirk. Badly.

Brendon twisted and kind of half rolled to the edge of Spencer’s bed, using one leg as leverage against Spencer so he didn’t fall off. He hastily sorted through the flotsam on Spencer’s bedside table, snatching up a container of lotion. He turned and waggled the bottle at Spencer.

“Yeah? No lube?”

“Why would I have lube?” Spencer sputtered. Brendon squeezed some lotion out onto his hand and reached for Spencer’s cock, still standing firmly at attention, despite his anxiety. And having come recently.

“For the same reason you have this on your bedside table,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly and giving Spencer a few long, firm strokes.

“I don’t--”

“Sure you don’t, dude.”

“We live in the desert! I have dry skin!” Spencer protested weakly.

“Uh huh. Me too,” Brendon said with a grin. “I’ve been thinking about you when I moisturize for _ages_.” Spencer’s cock twitched and Brendon laughed, giving it a little squeeze and a pat. “Ok, your turn now.”

Brendon took Spencer’s hand and squirted a generous dollop of lotion into his palm. Spencer just watched as Brendon dipped his own fingers in it, spreading the lotion liberally all over both of them. Then he reached down between his legs, circling his entrance a couple of times before pressing one finger inside, just a bit.

Spencer knew he had stopped breathing but he didn’t care. He watched Brendon fuck himself on his fingers for a long minute--first one, shortly followed by a second--before Brendon’s other hand tugged Spencer’s down to replace him. Spencer grasped Brendon’s wrist when he went to pull his fingers out, effectively keeping him there as he slid one finger inside of him, alongside Brendon’s two.

Brendon gasped, pushing down against their hands and spreading his legs further apart. Spencer used his knees to help hold Brendon open, but that wasn’t really working for him. His cock kept getting in the way, standing out straight in front of him and bobbing unhelpfully. Spencer laughed to himself as he rearranged. He wanted to see what doing this did to Brendon. His cock could wait.

Brendon squinted dubiously at Spencer at the unexplained laughter.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked breathily.

“Hmmm. You?” Spencer returned.

“Hell yeah,” Brendon replied, moaning appreciatively.

Spencer let Brendon pull his fingers out and quickly replaced them with his own. The slide wasn’t smooth enough so he prised the lotion away from Brendon and coated his fingers again. Two slipped in easily, so he pulled out and drizzled on even more lotion and went in with three. Brendon grunted and latched onto Spencer’s arms, his own hands still slick. Spencer thrust in as far as he could, searching, until Brendon’s fingers dug into his skin and he let out a high-pitched whine. That would do.

Spencer pulled his fingers out and poured lotion into his hand once more. Brendon watched as he slicked it down the length of his cock, then stole the bottle back. He up-ended it and squeezed lotion out directly onto Spencer’s cock, smoothing it down quickly but giving an extra swipe to the swollen head.

Spencer was struck with a moment of panic.

“Brendon, I don’t have a--”

“First year medical exams; we’re good. I’m good. Plus you’re a--”

“You sure?” Spencer squeezed the base of his cock.

“Wouldn’t have let you get this far if I wasn’t.”

Brendon reached between them and guided Spencer down. He stayed pressed up against Brendon’s entrance for one breath, two, then he pushed, feeling Brendon’s body give way slowly. Spencer was amazed. For all the fingering they had done, Brendon was still tight around his shaft; tight, but slippery--they’d used plenty of lotion, apparently, and hot. Spencer slid in to the hilt, his hips pressed up against Brendon’s ass and he stayed there, head spinning.

Spencer could feel every movement Brendon made. Could feel the tension build in his body, smell the sweat on his skin. Spencer marvelled at the intensity of it, looking down at where he was buried inside Brendon, the skin pink and stretched tight around him. He shuddered, which was mirrored instantly by Brendon, whose own cock was standing tall between them, nudging at Spencer’s belly. He looked up at Brendon’s face, flushed red and dripping sweat. His eyes burned black and his lip was held firmly between his teeth.

Brendon jerked his chin up.

“Go on.”

Spencer moved then. He pulled his hips back and thrust into Brendon’s body with a force that shocked them both. Brendon moaned throatily as Spencer built up a rhythm, losing himself in the pattern of thrusts and Brendon’s response. It was easy to let go and just fuck Brendon into the mattress. He didn’t notice at first what he was hearing.

Brendon let out a steady stream of babble. He had a dirty mouth on him when he wanted to, and he seemed to have plenty to say. Spencer had to focus for a second, lose his rhythm, to realize that nearly half of what he heard wasn’t actually coming out of Brendon’s mouth. Brendon had not only opened his body to Spencer, he unwittingly had opened his mind as well.

Spencer could hear Brendon’s jumble of thoughts without even trying. He knew that Brendon was getting close, a little surprised and a little frustrated that Spencer hadn’t even touched his cock yet or hit his sweet spot with more than an accidental glancing blow. Spencer found it amazingly convenient for somebody who didn’t really know what he was doing, and worked to make it better.

Spencer shifted, holding his weight up with one hand so he could jerk Brendon with the other. The result was twofold: Brendon moaned loudly, happy to have Spencer’s hands on him once more, and then he gasped. Spencer had found his prostate. Brendon bore down hard on Spencer, his back arching dramatically as Spencer pounded into him and jerked him roughly.

The stream of reactions pouring from Brendon thoroughly swamped Spencer’s consciousness. He couldn’t focus on anything besides the feeling of Brendon, hot and tight around him. Verbally Brendon had devolved into absolute wordlessness, babbling and moaning; but in his head, Spencer could still hear bits and pieces of coherent thought.

_Getting close._

_So hot._

_Right there._

_Harder._

_Faster._

Brendon fairly screamed when he came, clenching down hard on Spencer’s cock, and digging a furrow into Spencer’s shoulder with a ragged fingernail. Spencer couldn’t hold on any longer with the onslaught of sensation. He slammed his hips into Brendon as deep as he could and came harder than he ever had in his life. The rippling of Brendon’s muscles milked his twitching cock, and Spencer would have sworn that he came, then came again for all that it lasted so long.

Spencer’s arm buckled and he slipped to his elbows, still buried deep in Brendon. He rested his forehead on Brendon’s shoulder and sighed. Brendon reached up and dragged his fingers through Spencer’s hair.

The entire wing of the dorms had to have heard that.

“Didn’t take you for a screamer, Urie,” Spencer said against Brendon’s damp skin. He chuckled.

“Probably could have warned you.”

“Lesson learned,” he replied with a shrug.

“You didn’t go soft after I blew you.”

“Yeah, well.”

Brendon shifted back a little so he could look at Spencer’s face.

“Is it a thing?” Brendon wondered, eyes brightening. “How many times can you come?” He rolled his hips experimentally to feel that, yes, Spencer was _still_ hard inside him.

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted hesitantly. “At least twice.”

“I like it,” Brendon said with a smile, leaning back in to kiss Spencer deeply and suck on his tongue. “I like that you stay hard. It feels good.” Brendon reached down between them to feel where Spencer filled him. He felt around the rim, then circled the base of Spencer’s cock with his finger and thumb. Spencer jerked.

“Do that again,” he groaned, eyes slipping shut.

“Greedy,” Brendon teased, but he squeezed Spencer again, with his fingers and inside. Spencer came with a whine as Brendon lay placidly beneath him, eyes wide. They could both feel the twitching as he spent himself deep inside. Brendon shuddered pleasantly. “ _That_ is awesome.”

“Hmmm.” Spencer couldn’t be bothered to actually form words.

“Have I found your hair trigger?” Brendon teased.

“Yeah,” Spencer said bluntly. “Don’t abuse it.”

“Who doesn’t want to come?” Brendon laughed. “Give me a minute, I’ll go again!”

Spencer raised his head.

“Do you want to?”

“Have you been paying attention?”

Spencer smiled slow and wide. Brendon raised an eyebrow at him, but Spencer pushed back up onto his hands and ground his hips in. Brendon squirmed deliciously; he could feel how wet it was inside and wondered how much wetter it could get.

“Do you want to come...” Spencer rolled his hips again. “With me inside you, like last time?” Another thrust. “Or do you want me to suck you off?” And one more. He stilled, waiting for Brendon to reply.

“I want...” Brendon writhed. Spencer looked down to see his cock slowly filling. His mouth watered, wanting to feel Brendon rise on his tongue. He licked his lips, then bit down, trying to be patient, waiting to see what Brendon wanted. “I want to go all night.”

Spencer laughed.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” he said, struggling to stay still.

“I want to ride you.”

“Okay,” Spencer replied hastily, and flipped them.

Brendon landed with a grunt, firmly seated on Spencer’s cock. He laughed at what must have been the look of surprise on Spencer’s face; he hadn’t really expected that move to work.

Brendon didn’t waste any time. He shifted slightly, adjusting his stance, then rolled his hips. Spencer’s cock dragged inside him. He grinned wickedly and then raised up a little, not enough for Spencer to slip out, but enough that when he moved back down, the slide was lengthy. Brendon braced himself with his hands on Spencer’s chest and started a rhythm.

Spencer gripped Brendon’s hips and just held on. Brendon worked himself ferociously on Spencer’s cock until his thighs started to quiver. Spencer held him firmly in place, slightly up, enough that Spencer could thrust his hips up and give Brendon some sort of respite. Brendon took the opportunity and took himself in hand, stroking fast and hard. It was so dirty, Spencer boggled. Come was starting to leak out of Brendon and down Spencer’s cock. They were both going to be covered in it. And again, Spencer got flashes of what was going on in Brendon’s head.

It mostly matched the incoherent moaning coming out of his mouth.

Brendon froze for an instant, his body tightening abruptly before he came with a hoarse cry. His come streaked Spencer’s chest, something he apparently liked quite a bit. His smile took over his face as he looked down at the mess.

“I want to come all over you,” Brendon panted, still stroking himself lazily.

Spencer grunted and pulled Brendon down hard. The sound their bodies made coming together masked whatever Spencer did when he came inside Brendon again. Brendon wriggled deliciously, smearing come all over the place.

“I don’t know if I can go much longer,” Spencer admitted breathlessly.

Brendon didn’t bother to pull off. He just collapsed on top of Spencer with him still inside. They were getting gross and would totally stick together if he stayed there too long.

“How about one more round?” Brendon suggested. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

Spencer laughed and his hands slipped down Brendon’s sweaty back.

“We’re not there yet?” he almost whined. Brendon threw his head back, howling with laughter.

“Oh, dude. I said ‘ _all night_ ’,” he replied with a leer. “Not my fault if you don’t take a breather.”

“ _You are going to rub my dick off_ ,” Spencer muttered under his breath. Brendon only chortled gleefully. Spencer grasped him by the hips and pulled out gingerly. Brendon made a distressed sound; Spencer kissed it away. “Give me a minute,” he said softly, tracing the line of Brendon’s jaw. “My heart is racing.”

A look passed over Brendon’s face that Spencer couldn’t interpret. His hand slid up to press against Spencer’s chest over his heart, as if he was listening to the rhythm. Spencer was just going to reach for Brendon’s hand when Brendon suddenly screwed up his face and then started giggling.

“You okay?” Spencer ventured carefully.

“Oh my _god_ , your come is just... _oozing_...” Brendon managed between giggles.

Spencer rolled his eyes and smacked Brendon smartly on the ass.

“Yeah, nothing says ‘let’s fuck some more’ like come dripping out of your ass. You’re disgusting,” Spencer said fondly.

Brendon just laughed harder, rolling to the side enough that Spencer could slide out from underneath him. His laughing stopped abruptly when Spencer heaved him up onto all fours and spread his cheeks.

“I knew it.” Brendon spread his knees and tilted his hips, all the better to display himself to Spencer. “You’re a sick fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer didn’t bother to reply. He swept his thumb around Brendon’s hole, a little redder, and clenching around nothing. He watched as his own come did indeed slide out as Brendon said. It intrigued him, and he followed it with his finger. Brendon shuddered. He jerked when Spencer slipped his fingers inside him again.

“You’re so wet,” he said without thinking.

“No shit,” Brendon countered. “Are you gonna fuck me or what?”

“You’re awfully pushy,” Spencer observed.

Brendon just wiggled his ass at him. Spencer supposed it was meant to be enticing. It worked.

He pulled his fingers out and used both hands to spread Brendon wide again. He aimed and slid his cock back in. He took a moment to be very proud of himself for his technique. He felt like he was doing pretty well for a novice. Brendon kept asking for more, at least; that had to be something.

Spencer pulled out slowly, his cock dragging the tiniest bit. Brendon remained plenty wet, but the few minutes his cock had been out in the air had allowed it to dry and Spencer hadn’t reapplied. He was bad like that with sunscreen too. He didn’t care. The drag was amazing.

Spencer leaned back on his heels and watched as his cock slowly reappeared. He paused with just the head inside, Brendon’s body squeezing him just right. Then he sunk back in, revelling in the differences in textures and pressure and heat. He did it again, and the drag was less. He was picking up his own come, slicking his own way, easier with every thrust.

Brendon was talking again.

“Come on, Spence, fuck me. Come on, come on.”

It was like he was the dirtiest cheerleader ever. Spencer picked up the pace anyway. It wasn’t like he had a reason not to.

Spencer’s hips cracked against Brendon’s ass with every thrust. Brendon dropped to his elbows, seemingly knocked off balance. It worked, though, well, because Brendon started to keen. Spencer was thrown into his thoughts and had to bite his lip hard to keep from coming. Spencer could feel how it felt for Brendon. He could feel how it was to be filled, how Spencer hit Brendon’s prostate on every stroke and it was almost too much.

Spencer wanted it to feel like too much. Brendon hadn’t even been hard when Spencer had gone in again. He was now, his cock bobbing wildly with the movement of their bodies, slapping against Brendon’s sticky belly. Spencer quickened his thrusts until he was fucking into Brendon quite as fast as he could. The sounds and the images pouring out of Brendon told him he was on the right track. If he could just do it that much harder, he could tip Brendon over the edge.

A couple more bone-grating thrusts and Brendon wailed into Spencer’s pillows, come splashing everywhere. Spencer fucked him through it until he felt like almost, almost, and then he abruptly pulled out. Brendon’s head whipped around from where he had it pillowed on his arms and he watched as Spencer jerked himself to completion. One hand on Brendon’s hip and one, two, three strokes had him coming over his fist onto the damp skin of Brendon’s back.

“Fuck,” Brendon whispered. “Come here.” He reached a hand out and pulled Spencer back down to the bed beside him. They lay there panting for a long while.

“We need showers,” Spencer finally ventured. He had drying come all up his chest and down his thighs, and who knew where else. Brendon was practically covered in it. So was the bed, for that matter. Spencer wrinkled his nose.

“I am not moving. Not now, not ever,” Brendon mumbled against the pillow. “May not be possible. Don’t think my legs work.”

Spencer snorted.

“Mission accomplished.”

Brendon giggled.

“That, and probably everyone _in the world_ knows what we’ve been doing.” It embarrassed Spencer to think about having to face his classmates. He was proud that he had made Brendon actually _scream_. Three times. But he didn’t like thinking about them having heard it.

“Walls are surprisingly soundproof. Not totally, but shielded too,” Brendon said through a yawn. “Something about the stones. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I shield a lot,” Spencer admitted kind of reluctantly.

“Huh.” Brendon traced a path along Spencer’s arm. The colors were faint, but Spencer knew that Brendon could see the pattern of blues and purples that stretched up to his back. He smoothed over the scratch. “I’m sorry. Want me to..?”

“Leave it.”

Brendon pressed a kiss to the spot, forcing a smile to break out on Spencer’s lips.

“To make it better,” he said softly.

“You’re such a dork.” Spencer laughed.

***

Spencer woke when the sun was already high in the sky. He was stiflingly hot and half smothered underneath Brendon. Brendon still slept, stretched out bonelessly over far more than a fair share of the bed. Spencer just smiled, though. Brendon had stayed, and he figured that was probably a good thing.

Spencer indulged himself for a bit and just watched Brendon sleep. He knew it was a little creepy, but he couldn’t be bothered to care and he didn’t want to wake Brendon and start the day. It wasn’t like he had any pressing engagements, so he let himself look.

Brendon’s forehead was smooth and untroubled, if a little sweaty. His eyelashes were lush and dark against his skin. Brendon’s wicked mouth was slack, and if his lips were chapped and he was in desperate need of a shave, it didn’t make a difference to Spencer. Spencer was besotted and thought Brendon was gorgeous in any light; reality held little sway.

The sheet they had pulled over themselves in the night sat precariously at Brendon’s hips. Spencer’s heart sped up and his mouth watered when he replayed highlights from the evening before. His dick twitched, making him wince. He was a little tender. It made him wonder how Brendon would feel when he woke. Then it made him wonder if it was always like that. The rational part of his brain knew that it couldn’t--even Spencer wasn’t made for marathon sex _every_ night. But it was a nice thought.

Brendon stirred, stretching and grumbling wordlessly. His face scrunched up and Spencer smiled at him. Brendon blinked sleepily, coming awake slowly. His hands slid across Spencer’s body and his own smile grew.

“Hey,” Brendon rumbled. Spencer shivered inexplicably and Brendon tucked his face in his shoulder, not quite able to hide a grin. “It’s morning.”

“It’s late,” Spencer amended.

Brendon’s head popped up and he turned to look at the clock.

“Oh shit, you scared me,” he gasped. Spencer frowned. “I’m supposed to have a thing after lunch today.”

“It’s not that late.”

“Time for a shower then,” Brendon said, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to come?”

Spencer blushed. Thankfully Brendon didn’t laugh at him.

“Public space, Brendon,” he said, averting his eyes. “Probably not the best idea?”

“Best idea _ever_ ,” Brendon contradicted, rubbing himself deliberately up against Spencer. He was hard, and his dick dragged along Spencer’s thigh invitingly. Brendon kissed him quickly. “But we can save it til intersession when everybody’s gone.”

Brendon rolled out of bed before Spencer even had a chance to suggest alternate accommodations. Spencer sat up and watched him get dressed instead. Brendon looked up as he tugged his pants on.

“You look disappointed,” Brendon suggested.

“I’m... not,” Spencer replied, unconvincing even to his own ears.

Brendon made a ridiculously pouty face and climbed into Spencer’s lap, straddling his hips. He wrapped his arms around Spencer’s neck, rubbing their noses together before kissing him soundly. Spencer groaned; he was so far gone and yet had no idea how this kind of thing worked.

“Want me to come back later?” Brendon asked softly, forehead pressed to Spencer’s.

“Yeah,” Spencer spit out, his voice rough. Brendon grinned and kissed him again.

“You make it hard to leave,” he admitted with yet another kiss. “I have work to do.”

“Go on,” Spencer said with a nudge. Brendon untangled himself and gathered the rest of his clothes from the floor before sauntering out the door, shoes in hand.

 

[ Shine So Bright, part 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/17560.html#cutid1)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world has undergone a series of changes that have left it much different from the one we know. Most of the human population has disappeared. Many of those who are left have evolved into something more. Something magical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by [](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/profile)[cloudlessclimes](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/). Title courtesy of Patrick Stump. This is a work of fiction. Consider this a prelude to [State of Love and Trust ](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/17011.html#cutid1), written for the 2011 [](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/profile)[bandomvalentine](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/).

**Title:** Shine So Bright  
 **Band(s):** PATD (plus some random cameos!)  
 **Pairing:** Spencer/Brendon  
 **Word Count:** 20433  
 **Rating/Warnings:** NC-17 (sex, some language)  
 **Summary:** The world has undergone a series of changes that have left it much different from the one we know. Most of the human population has disappeared. Many of those who are left have evolved into something more. Something magical.  
Spencer is a student at the Western Academy of Magic. He learns how to control his innate magical abilities, how to harness the magic he doesn't hold inside, and how to fall in love with Brendon without getting them both killed.  
 **Notes:** Beta by [](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/profile)[**cloudlessclimes**](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/). Title courtesy of Patrick Stump. This is a work of fiction. Consider this a prelude to [State of Love and Trust ](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/17011.html#cutid1), written for the 2011 [](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/profile)[**bandomvalentine**](http://bandomvalentine.livejournal.com/).

[Shine So Bright, part 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/17354.html)  
  
Brendon came back. Frequently. They spent a good deal of their time together anyway. All the sex was just a natural progression, if you really thought about it.

Spencer didn’t think of himself as the jealous type. He was pretty laid back. Not much bothered him. But something was up with Brendon and it bothered him.

Brendon frequently had “a thing” and would disappear for several hours.

Objectively, it could have been anything. Brendon and Spencer each carried a full load of classes at the Academy; it could have been something to do with class. Plus, Brendon had three types of magic bubbling up inside him for which he had no training whatsoever. The earth and air magic weren’t that big of a deal for the most part. Brendon tended to kick up a lot of dust if he wasn’t paying attention. The electricity, on the other hand, that was troublesome. Brendon zapped the ever-loving shit out of Spencer at least every other day.

But Brendon tended to tell Spencer anything and everything that was going on in his life. That he left something out, well, it let Spencer make some irrational leaps.

It was a Saturday when Brendon appeared in the dorms after having been incommunicado for several hours. Spencer caught sight of him in the corridor. Brendon went directly to his own room and closed the door behind himself.

Spencer knocked on Brendon’s door, a little annoyed and a little sick to his stomach for being That Guy.

Brendon was sopping wet.

“What happened to you? You fall in the lake?” He wasn’t nearly fake-nonchalant enough to pull it off.

Brendon rolled his eyes and leaned against the door jamb. He looked tired, and Spencer thought he smelled faintly of something weird.

“Mind if I change?” Brendon gestured toward his clearly soaked-through clothes. Spencer took a step back, intending to return to his own room, but Brendon inclined his head in invitation and Spencer felt his feet automatically responding.

Once the door was shut behind them, Brendon’s wet clothes started coming off. Generally nakedness was a sign of impending sexy business, but this wasn’t the case. Brendon was wet, and he was cold, and naked was just a step toward rectifying that. He was dressed in clean pants and a warm hoodie within minutes.

But not before Spencer saw the marks on him. Brendon’s hands, elbows, and knees all bore what appeared to be angry burns.

“What have you been doing, Brendon?” Spencer gasped, reaching out.

“Working,” Brendon replied vaguely, slumping down onto his bed. Spencer sat beside him.

“Working? On fucking what? You’re a mess,” Spencer pointed out. “We should get you to a Healer.”

“I’ve been already. It’s tricky.”

“Tricky? You look fried in half a dozen places!” Spencer said hotly.

“Mikey said it could get like that.”

“Mikey?” Spencer wondered aloud. “ _Mikey Way?_ Jesus, it’s a wonder you’re alive.”

Brendon laughed and reached for Spencer’s hand. Mikey Way was the Academy’s electrician. He had the greatest manifestation of electrical magic in North America, and as such, had been lured out West by promises of access to the dam’s power plant and all the natural lightning he could stand. He had brought with him a cadre of misfits from back East, including his brother Gerard, who took over earth magic. But working with electricity was dangerous. Working with Mikey was dangerous.

“So electrical magic is kind of rare, right?” Brendon finally started to explain. Spencer nodded along. “I needed help. It kept coming out and I couldn’t keep it... I was going to hurt you and I didn’t--”

“You had me all worried.” Spencer sighed with relief.

“Yeah?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.” Brendon stroked the back of Spencer’s hand with his thumb.

“I thought you were ch--seeing someone else.”

“You thought I was--”

“Never mind,” Spencer tried dropping it.

“No, you thought I was cheating on you?”

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have--” Spencer shrugged.

“Wait, no, I wouldn’t do that.”

“We haven’t talked about... anything. Like that.”

“I know. But we are now,” Brendon said in a low voice. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t want to see anyone else, and I don’t want you to see anyone else.” Spencer wanted to curl up into a little ball and die for being an idiot. “I’ve been getting zapped all to hell every Saturday afternoon for a month. And I stood in a shower with Mikey Way for three hours today just so I could--” His shoulders shook with laughter for a moment. “I’m not going to accidentally stop your heart. I’ve got enough control now; I can keep it down.”

“Too bad you can’t say that about other things,” Spencer replied drily, but his twitching lips betrayed him. They giggled together, fingers twined between them.

Brendon slanted a glance at Spencer out of the corner of his eye, surreptitiously checking in before he turned and kissed him with a smile still on his lips.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Brendon said, pulling away. “That I want you all the time.”

Spencer blushed hotly and dropped his gaze.

“No, not a bad thing. Not at all,” he replied, looking down at their hands. All Brendon could see were thick lashes fanned against his pink cheeks. “This is just... new. To me. I don’t--”

“Yeah,” Brendon broke in. “Me too.”

“But you’ve...” Spencer stuttered to a halt.

“I only ever _dated_ girls, back home. For appearances,” Brendon admitted, staring across the room at nothing in particular. “My parents would have flipped if they found out.”

“They don’t..?”

“Really know me?” Brendon said bitterly. Spencer cringed. “No. They don’t.”

Spencer swept his thumb across Brendon’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Brendon seemed genuinely surprised.

“For bringing up all this...” He gestured lamely.

“Don’t worry about it,” Brendon shrugged. “They don’t control my life anymore. I am my own man.” Brendon sat up taller and Spencer grinned at him. “Shut up.”

***

Spencer and Brendon planned to stay at the Academy during the intersession--the weeks between the end of the first semester and the start of the second. Many students simply went home for that time, but Brendon didn’t want to, and Spencer decided to stay to keep him company. It was a nice option; that they didn’t _have to_ go home.

The corridors were mostly empty. Spencer and Brendon were the only students of their class to remain, and only a handful were left of the others. It was quiet.

Spencer had to dissuade Brendon from wandering the dorms in his underwear.

“But I can!”

“Doesn’t mean you should. You might scare someone.”

Brendon glared and turned away, muttering something about being naked. Spencer plucked at Brendon’s elastic, snapping him once sharply before tucking his fingers in and stroking at Brendon’s hip. It mollified Brendon somewhat to be touched, even if his pout persisted. Spencer grinned against his shoulder.

“We could be naked,” Spencer suggested. Brendon arched an eyebrow at him. “Better than hallway exhibitionism, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” Brendon shrugged.

“You _guess?_ ” Spencer teased, urging Brendon to his feet where he neatly stripped him of his briefs before crowding him up against the rickety desk.

Brendon planted his hands firmly on the desktop, his head hanging low. He blew a huff of air out at his shaggy bangs.

“Hope there’s nothing too important on here,” he said, looking at the papers spread across the surface.

“Nothing I can’t replace,” Spencer replied, hooking his chin over Brendon’s shoulder quickly just to make sure before he dropped to his knees. “Just don’t come on my books.”

Brendon laughed, cutting himself off abruptly when Spencer spread him open and licked at his hole. His knees buckled for a second, but Spencer’s grip on him was firm enough that he didn’t fall. Brendon would probably end up with a set of finger-shaped bruises on his ass, but it could’ve been worse.

Spencer didn’t intend to stay where he was for long, anyway; just long enough to tease Brendon a little, get him going. The sound of crinkling paper brought him to his feet--Brendon had a fist full of Spencer’s notes. Spencer chuckled into the smooth skin of Brendon’s shoulder as he reached for the lotion.

“I don’t know why you don’t just get a bottle of lube,” Brendon wondered breathlessly as Spencer popped the top.

“We can use yours,” Spencer suggested. “When we’re in your room. I like this. It’s a little thicker.” He squeezed some out into his hand and reached down to slip his fingers into Brendon.

“It’s thicker?” Brendon gasped, arching back. Spencer smiled and crooked his fingers.

“Yeah. It’s kind of more like come,” he said, not really thinking about it.

Brendon arched again and turned his head to look back at him.

“That explains a lot,” he said dryly. Spencer blushed, which he thought was a bit incongruous, considering he had his fingers up Brendon’s ass.

“Yeah, well. Given the choice... I’d rather use come. I guess.” Huh.

“Why don’t you?” Brendon asked, throwing his head back and tilting his hips.

“Huh?” Spencer stopped moving.

“ _Why don’t you?_ Right now. You can jerk off, or I can blow you. It’s not like you won’t be good to go again.”

“God that’s dirty,” Spencer whispered. Brendon snorted. Spencer leaned in to speak into his ear, his cock nudging damply against Brendon’s thigh. “Didn’t say it wasn’t a good idea.”

Brendon shivered when Spencer slid his hand down Brendon’s side and then back, to take himself in hand. He stayed close, fingers still buried deep, his body angled so every stroke just barely skimmed Brendon’s sensitive skin. Brendon was practically thrumming with anticipation, pinned up against Spencer’s desk and unable to turn around.

It was artless. Spencer went for speed, not style, but even so, the closer he got, the more he leaned into Brendon. When he came, a moment later, he was pressed up against Brendon’s back with his nose tucked into the crook of his neck.

“Come on, then,” Brendon prompted impatiently. Spencer dragged his teeth along the ridge of his shoulder as he slicked himself up.

“Okay?”

Brendon’s response was to widen his stance. Spencer tilted his hips further before spreading him open again, strangely careful where just a moment before it was all about haste. He pressed in slowly, watching as he sank in deeper and deeper into Brendon’s body. The angle was perfect. Spencer liked to see his cock disappear, being swallowed up by Brendon one way or another.

He was knocked out of his reverie by Brendon’s groan. Spencer needed to move. He grasped Brendon’s hips, and the rhythm he set soon had Brendon open and babbling. Brendon talked enough--both during sex and after--that Spencer knew pretty much what was going on with him, but they hadn’t discussed how Spencer knew more. Brendon knew that Spencer was Violet, that he had personal mental magic of various sorts. Brendon knew that Spencer could Search him--that he _had_. That much was obvious. But Brendon didn’t know that when he was wild with lust in the middle of it all, he pulled Spencer into his mind. Spencer wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, sure that it would freak Brendon out.

He just wanted this. Brendon’s skin, Brendon’s mouth. Spencer marveled at how Brendon not only let him, but was ready to go to try anything Spencer could come up with, and then suggest more on his own. Brendon wasn’t insatiable--Spencer frequently reduced him to a quivering boneless heap; he was voracious. They were well-matched indeed, even if their burgeoning relationship was something of an unintended consequence of their work partnership.

Spencer grunted softly with nearly every thrust, the effort and the movement itself forcing the air out of his lungs in time with his hips. Brendon braced himself on his hands, his fingers splayed wide across the wooden desk. He held steady, even as Spencer’s thrusts practically lifted him onto his toes.

Spencer knew--he could _see_ \--that Brendon liked it hard and deep, but it didn’t often do the job. Spencer had to slow down, ease back on the death grip he had going on, and make it good. One hand skated down Brendon’s thigh, reassuring, before moving up to curl around his erection. Brendon shivered and whined until Spencer got coordinated. It took a moment, and Spencer would have sworn that Brendon choked off a laugh. He forgot about it once he rested his forehead against Brendon’s sweat-damp nape. Brendon mumbled and moaned, the sounds vibrating against Spencer’s bones like he was a sounding board. He gave little warning, merely tensing up and throwing his head back, nearly cracking their skulls together, before coming mostly in Spencer’s hand. Spencer followed him willingly.

They fell back onto the bed, sweaty and tired but pleased with themselves all the same. Spencer glanced at the desk. It was a little worse for wear, but like he said, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be replaced.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Brendon said.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed. “What would I have done at home?” He made a show of wiping his sticky hand off on his shirt. “I was promised sex if I stayed. Shower sex, even.”

Brendon pressed closer.

“Well, thanks anyway,” he replied. “I didn’t want to go home. And it’s nice here with you.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around Brendon’s middle, drawing them tightly together. Brendon was a little too still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can we not--” Brendon pressed his face into Spencer’s arm. “Later? Can we talk about it later?”

It made Spencer cold. It had to be something well hidden, for him not to have seen. Or recent. Very recent. He hoped--

Spencer pulled his other arm around underneath Brendon and drew him into the protective hollow of his body. As Brendon nestled in, Spencer said:

“Whatever you want.”

***

For someone as incredibly social as Brendon, he spent a lot of time alone on a bluff above the Hoover Dam. It wasn’t far from the Academy grounds; less than a mile or so. But it was far enough for Brendon to go to gather his thoughts when he needed to.

Spencer had been out to the dam a couple times. It was pretty cool, objectively. Enormous, not only on a spatial scale, but also in it’s importance to society. The West relied fairly heavily on the hydropower it produced, as well as the wind and solar farms that could be found way out in the particularly isolated areas of the desert. The crash of the oil industry and the subsequent disconnection from the world’s economy had been one of the consequences of the changes. With so few people, and how labor-intensive petroleum products were, they quickly became prohibitively expensive. And apparently, easily replaced.

But the bluffs were where Brendon went when he wanted to be alone. Usually Spencer would leave him to it. Brendon didn’t need him poking at every little thing. But shortly after the holidays, Brendon grew very quiet and started disappearing again, returning to the dorms looking windblown and a little sunburned. Spencer could put it together.

He found Brendon out there a few days before the other students were due to start returning for the second semester. Brendon perched on a boulder, gazing out across the lake, squinting into the sun. Spencer didn’t say anything, just made enough noise that Brendon knew he was there.

“I talked with my mother today,” Brendon said, not bothering to turn around.

“I wondered if you had,” Spencer replied. It had taken him a while, but he had figured out that Brendon tended to get quiet and standoffish when he had heard from someone from home, particularly his parents.

“Yeah. They want me to come back for Easter.” Spencer could see Brendon’s shoulders droop. Easter was a big deal, he knew. “I don’t want to. The longer I’m here, the harder it is for me to keep up my end of the bargain.”

“What do you mean?”

“We had a deal,” Brendon replied shortly. Spencer felt himself grow cold, as if a shadow had passed over.

“Like, what kind of--”

“You know, a _deal_. I can come to the Academy, but I have to finish up in two years and then I go back. And--” Brendon scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“And what?” Spencer tried to stay casual.

“And then I get married,” Brendon hissed. Spencer felt like the ground had fallen away under his feet. “Apparently they’ve found a nice little Mormon girl in Utah. Doesn’t care that I have magic.”

Spencer sat down hard on the ground. His mouth opened once, but nothing came out. And Brendon still wouldn’t look at him.

“I didn’t know the extent of the deal!” Brendon shouted into the rising wind. “I couldn’t believe it when they said I could go. I could go, but I had to come back. I didn’t know what it meant. To come back.” His voice cracked, and Spencer wanted to reach out to him, but he didn’t know if he could. “They don’t know I’m gay, Spence. They don’t know about you. They wouldn’t understand. Their goals aren’t my goals. I don’t want--” Brendon took a shuddering breath and finally turned to look at Spencer. “I want to be a part of this. I want you.”

Spencer scrambled to his feet and stumbled to Brendon, sliding onto the rock and gathering him up in his arms. Brendon clung to him. Their magic was barely contained, and Spencer could almost taste it on the air. It always happened when they got upset or overly excited about something; it happened to them all. It was part of what they learned, coming to the Academy: how to control what they had inside. But Spencer didn’t know if the storm he felt coming was natural, or one they brought on themselves.

“Come on,” he said, rising to his feet and dragging Brendon with him. “We don’t want to get caught out in this.”

The look on Brendon’s face as he glanced at the sky made something tighten in Spencer’s chest. It was so forlorn, and made Brendon seem very young. The crack of lightning made them both jump. Spencer tugged until Brendon stepped into his arms again and Spencer did his best to wrap himself around Brendon’s warm body, enveloping him, shielding him against the gusting wind as best he could.

Brendon tucked his face in against Spencer’s neck with his eyes scrunched tightly shut. His body was rigid, and Spencer could feel him trembling underneath his hands. Spencer mumbled soft sounds meant to be comforting and nudged Brendon gently to get his feet moving.

“I don’t want to go back,” Brendon said against his skin. Spencer felt it more than heard the words.

“It’s going to start pouring here in a few minutes, dude,” Spencer observed. Brendon shook his head and stepped away.

“No. I don’t want to go home,” Brendon clarified. “I don’t want to go back to the way it was. I don’t want to marry some random chick my parents think will be good for me and try to repopulate the world.”

“‘Repopulate the world’?” Spencer asked skeptically, raised eyebrow for emphasis.

“They’re Mormon, man, you have no idea,” Brendon replied with another head shake. The line of his body wasn’t as tense, but the look on Brendon’s face remained bleak.

“Come on,” Spencer said again. “I don’t really want to have to run all the way back.”

Brendon smiled wanly, but allowed Spencer to take his hand and lead him back toward the Academy campus. The winds died down the further they got from the dam, leading Spencer to believe that it probably was a real storm forming over the lake. It would have followed them otherwise.

Spencer took Brendon back to his room where he simply lay him down on the bed and curled up around him. He didn’t try to offer a distraction; he just tried to be _there_. He didn’t really know what else to do.

***

Brendon perked up a bit once everyone returned and the hustle of classes began again. Spencer could see that he was still somewhat subdued, but he doubted that anyone else could. Brendon didn’t talk about his family issues. He wasn’t talking about it, but that didn’t mean that any of it had been resolved.

Brendon’s family still wanted him to come home. Brendon still didn’t want to go.

Spencer didn’t push. If Brendon didn’t want to talk about it, then Spencer wasn’t going to press the issue. Brendon would talk when he was ready, and Spencer would be there.

In the meantime, they practiced their magic and they had a lot of sex. The magic was understandable--they were students at the Western Academy of Magic; it’s what they were supposed to be doing with their time. As for the sex, well. It was almost as if Brendon was trying to squeeze in every last little bit he could before he couldn’t do it anymore. Spencer tried not to think about it.

Spencer sat at his desk trying to work out how exactly he was supposed to tell what sort of minerals were in a soil sample when Brendon blew in and slammed the door.

“I talked to a rabbit today!” he shouted gleefully. “I Called, right? And she just hopped out of the bushes!”

Spencer turned as Brendon approached, his face lit up. Brendon draped himself over Spencer, half climbing into his lap before nuzzling his neck and nipping his ear. Spencer just slung his arm around Brendon’s waist and tried to balance them both in a chair clearly meant for one. He hoped it held.

“A rabbit, huh?” Spencer said, laughing as Brendon wriggled.

“It was awesome. She just hopped over and was like, ‘hey, dude.’”

“‘Hey, dude.’ From a rabbit.”

“Roughly. I’m translating here,” Brendon replied happily, his eyes sparkling.

“So you talked?” Spencer prompted. Brendon grinned.

“Yeah, for a little while. Rabbits are kind of flighty. And she had things on her mind,” Brendon replied.

“What kind of things weigh a rabbit down?” Spencer wondered.

“She had a litter,” Brendon said soberly. “They’re okay. But, you know, it’s tough being a mom out in the desert.”

“I’m sure it is.” Spencer struggled to suppress the laughter he felt working it’s way out. Brendon grimaced at him and poked him sharply in the stomach.

“It is, if you’re a rabbit.” Brendon giggled at that, so Spencer felt free to join him. It was ridiculous. “Frank thought it was pretty cool.”

Spencer’s fingers tightened involuntarily on Brendon’s hip.

“Did he?” he asked coolly.

“Yeah,” Brendon replied, nuzzling again. “Rabbits don’t often come when you Call. They’re shy. Somebody else got a lizard. Oh! And somebody else got a rattler! Scared the shit out of him! It was awesome!”

Brendon’s cackling relieved some of the tension. Spencer wasn’t Frank’s biggest fan, and he couldn’t figure it out. He seemed like a nice enough guy; all his students loved him, Brendon was no exception. He was buddies with all the younger faculty. He was great at animal magic--had a number of pets to prove it. They just seemed to find him, adopt _him_. And his wife didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she was very much like him in many aspects. Spencer liked her. Yet Frank irked him. Spencer put it aside; he still had several months to get over it before he had to take animal magic himself.

“Calling. That’s new.” Spencer tried to revive the conversation.

“Yeah,” Brendon shrugged. “We’ve been working on it for about a week, I guess?”

“Oh, so you’re pretty good at it then?” Spencer said with a smile. Brendon just hummed and shrugged again. Brendon was getting pretty good at a lot of things, after his slow start.

“I kind of want to try something,” Brendon said hesitantly. Spencer raised an eyebrow, to which Brendon’s response was a shove and an eyeroll. Spencer just laughed at him until Brendon stood. “I’m going to go back to my room, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Spencer replied, confused. He didn’t think he had made Brendon angry, but then he’d been sort of touchy lately. “I’ll just be... here. Studying. If you want to, um... you know, whatever. Later.”

Brendon smiled brightly, which just served to confuse Spencer even further, because seriously, what the hell? But he dipped down for a kiss before he took off out the door just as quickly as he had come in, leaving Spencer agitated and annoyed and not any further along with his stupid earth magic than he had been before.

Spencer returned to studying his minerals.

But not for long. After a few minutes it seemed like he had an itch, only inside his head, or like, pressure on his brain. It wasn’t unlike the beginnings of a headache, so Spencer pushed back from his desk and got a drink of water. It didn’t help. If anything, Spencer was itchier, restless, anxious to move. He marked the place in his book, dragged a hand through his hair, and stepped out into the hallway.

The corridor in Spencer’s dorm was cool and gray and fairly empty. Most people were out for dinner, and Spencer considered it himself, taking a few steps in the direction of the dining hall before deciding that hunger wasn’t really his problem and turning around and heading in the other direction. He stood in front of Brendon’s door without realizing that was where he was going.

Spencer sighed and shook his head before knocking on the door. Brendon opened up, looking sort of odd. Sheepish. Guilty. Something.

“I can’t seem to stay away from you,” Spencer mumbled, scratching behind his ear. Brendon just smiled, dragging him in and closing the door behind him.

“Um,” Brendon bounced on the balls of his feet.

“What?” Spencer grumbled. He felt lame. And needy. It annoyed him.

“ _IthinkICalledyou._ ”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Brendon rubbed the back of his neck, in what Spencer knew from very early on was a nervous gesture.

“I think I... Called. You,” Brendon repeated, slower, hesitantly. Spencer’s eyebrows shot up in alarm.

“You did--you did, like--wait, what?” Spencer sat down on the bed with a thump.

“I Called,” Brendon said again. “And you came.”

Spencer didn’t know what to do with that information. He opened his mouth several times, but what to say? He just sat there looking up at Brendon for a long time.

“So you compelled me,” Spencer began uneasily. Brendon’s eyes widened.

“No, no, no!” he sputtered, shaking his head and gesturing wildly. “I would never--”

“But that’s what it sounds like,” Spencer said, his voice flat.

“No, I Called! It’s different magic, you know that, Spence!” Brendon took a step closer but stopped when Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Compulsion is totally--I can’t _do_ that kind of magic! Even if I could, I _wouldn’t_ , you know I wouldn’t.” Brendon crept closer as he spoke until finally he dropped to the floor at Spencer’s feet. “Spencer, _please_.”

“I don’t understand,” Spencer sighed. “You Call _animals_. And inside the building; I thought--”

“I just wanted to try. I didn’t know if it would work!” Brendon looked up at him with his big eyes and Spencer felt the irritation start to fade. “But we’re animals; humans are animals. I just wondered... And the shielding, it--I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t keep out everything?” Brendon pressed his cheek to Spencer’s knee. “Or maybe I’m just that good.”

Spencer scoffed, immediately setting Brendon off in a fit of giggles. He was ridiculous, and Spencer couldn’t get enough of him, even when he pulled questionable stunts like this.

“Come here,” Spencer said gruffly, tugging on Brendon’s hair, then his arm, until he got up from the floor.

“Are you mad?” Brendon asked, climbing up beside Spencer and then sprawling all over him. Spencer thought about it for a minute; long enough to make Brendon tense.

“Not really. A little freaked,” he admitted. “Just don’t do it again, okay? It wasn’t--”

Brendon squeezed him tight, startling his breath out of him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Brendon chanted into Spencer’s skin. “I didn’t mean--”

“We’re not supposed to have that sort of power over each other,” Spencer said softly. “It’s not supposed to work.”

“Maybe it’s just us.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Spencer replied.

Spencer was still for a long time, Brendon wiggling and squirming like usual, as if his motor had the idle set too high. He cuddled Spencer, and Spencer let him. The press of his lips to the skin behind his ear was no surprise. Spencer relaxed against the wall and let Brendon touch him. It always made him feel better. It made them both feel better.

“I want to try something,” Brendon said, the hesitation clear in his voice. Spencer snorted.

“Yeah, like _that’s_ what I want to hear right now,” he said dryly. “Because the last time--”

“No,” Brendon cut him off. “Not magic.” Spencer raised his eyebrows and shot Brendon his most skeptical look. Brendon ignored it and kissed him.

Brendon’s mouth was something that Spencer spent a lot of time thinking about. He was a big fan, even if Brendon’s mouth could--and often did--get them into a lot of trouble.

Brendon maneuvered into Spencer’s lap, effectively pinning him up against the wall. Spencer groaned, clutching at Brendon’s hips, and trying to still him, or at least slow him down. He pulled back, thumping his head smartly but focusing on Brendon’s wicked mouth, his lips twisted into a smirk, lush and damp. Spencer kissed him again. Because he could.

“I want your mouth,” Spencer groaned, nipping at Brendon’s full bottom lip. His smile made chills go down his spine.

“I love it when you ask,” Brendon said, his breath hot against Spencer’s skin. “When you tell me what you want.”

Brendon shoved him down onto the bed, still straddling his hips. Twisting and pushing until Spencer lay how he wanted him. Then Brendon slid back, down Spencer’s legs so he could get at his pants. They were off and crumpled at the foot of the bed in no time.

Spencer was hard, anticipating. Brendon didn’t waste time; he never did. Spencer’s cock was out and in his mouth in a flash. Brendon knew what worked for Spencer. It wasn’t going to last long, if Brendon kept it up, and Spencer almost wished that he would drag it out. The thought was followed almost immediately by a burning desire to come down Brendon’s throat.

He didn’t get either.

Brendon pulled off him with an obscene slurp. He sat back, nudging Spencer’s thighs apart and settling down comfortably between them. He slid his hands up Spencer’s legs, knees to groin, with so light a touch that it tickled, making Spencer squirm and arch his back, begging for more. Brendon grinned and gave it to him. He pinned Spencer’s hips down, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of his belly before leaning back in and taking the head of Spencer’s cock back into his mouth. Spencer jerked, and Brendon chuckled throatily, sending out delicious vibrations even as he sucked.

Brendon tortured him. He swirled his tongue and lapped and sucked at the head of Spencer’s cock like it was a lollipop, completely ignoring the rest. Spencer whined and thrashed, resisting as best he could, but finally gave up and reached for Brendon. The second his hand touched Brendon’s head, he slid down Spencer’s shaft and took him all the way in. Spencer gasped, feeling almost, almost there, so close when Brendon pulled off again and took him in hand. Spencer came with Brendon stroking him, just right.

Brendon looked smug. It wasn’t like he hadn’t made Spencer come a hundred times before, but every time he took it like an accomplishment. He stroked Spencer a few times more just to make him squirm before he licked his fingers. There wasn’t much, if any, come on him. Brendon just liked to do it to see the look on Spencer’s face.

Brendon’s smile was knowing as he got up off the bed. Spencer just lay there while Brendon peeled off his clothes. Spencer was still hard, of course; he could usually go two or three times before it became a struggle. Even with his come still cooling on his belly, Spencer’s cock bobbed happily as more of Brendon’s skin emerged.

Brendon climbed back on the bed, kneeling between Spencer’s legs and dipping down to press a sloppy kiss to the sticky wet head of his cock. Spencer jerked and squirmed, especially when Brendon pulled back with a dirty flick of his tongue. But he lay still when Brendon swiped his fingers through the pool of come on Spencer’s belly. He was so ready.

“Okay?” Brendon asked, eyes searching.

“Yeah.” Spencer squeezed at the base of his cock, hoping it looked helpful, not needy. But Brendon shook his head.

“No, I want--” he dropped his eyes and needlessly swirled his fingers through the mess of come again. “I want to fuck you.”

“O-okay, yeah.”

“You sure? We’ve never--” Brendon was hesitant, but Spencer could see where he was coming from. Brendon knew that this could be a big deal. Brendon knew that because they’d never done it, it meant _Spencer_ never had. Spencer stilled Brendon’s fidgeting hands.

“I want to try it. I want you to try,” Spencer said, blushing, all at once annoyed and amazed that he still had the capacity to blush at things like this.

Spencer watched Brendon watch him as his wet fingers slipped down between them. One finger went in easily, and if it was a little weird, that was all. Brendon fetched his lube when he went for more and found Spencer’s come sticky-tacky, if not outright dry on his belly. Spencer shrugged. That was kind of his thing; it didn’t matter to him if Brendon wanted to slick them up with come or lube or fucking grape jelly, if that’s what he wanted. Although Spencer sort of fervently hoped it never came down to the grape jelly and would make sure it was unavailable if he had to.

He was musing along such lines when he was presented with two fingers. Still not that big of a deal. It was _more_ , obviously, and Spencer wondered absently how many fingers Brendon would give him before he’d be ready when his whole body spasmed. Brendon laughed at what must have been a look of alarm.

“I think you’re good to go,” he said, wiping his fingers on whatever lay nearby before prying open the bottle of lube again and liberally slicking himself up. Spencer watched, fascinated. That had always been him; he had never imagined what it must look like to Brendon to see that, wait for it from this side. Brendon gave himself a few preparatory strokes, with flourishes, clearly showing off for Spencer and erasing any leftover anxiety.

Their eyes met, and in a blink, Brendon was sliding down, placing Spencer’s feet firmly on the mattress. It struck Spencer then that it was really going to happen. Brendon was going to fuck him. And he tensed up.

Brendon kissed his knee soothingly. When he straightened, Spencer could feel the blunt head of his cock against his entrance. He tried to relax, just let it happen.

“Take a deep breath,” Brendon said suddenly. Spencer frowned, but did it, and Brendon pushed inside. The noise that escaped him had Brendon scrambling to check in.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Spencer breathed, clutching at Brendon’s arms shamelessly. Brendon bit at his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “I kind of figured, but--”

“I know, right?”

“Wow.”

“Are you good?”

“I so get it.”

“ _Spencer_ ,” Brendon said, warning clear in his voice. “Are you good? Can I move, or--”

“Yes, yes, please,” Spencer agreed.

It was hard to think. It made sense, suddenly, what Spencer had seen in Brendon’s head. With Brendon _moving inside him_ , he could hardly string a coherent thought together. It didn’t help that the minute Spencer thought he was getting it together enough to really get into it, he fell into Brendon’s mind and lost it all over again.

Brendon’s thoughts had a strange centering effect on Spencer. Brendon was focused. On Spencer. And it seemed like everything else in his head was jumbled up into a little ball in the back.

Spencer felt surrounded by Brendon, overwhelmed. Again, it didn’t take more than a half dozen strokes to have him writhing and coming all over the place. Brendon wasn’t far behind. Spencer could tell, even without benefit of knowing his mind. But Spencer got a flash of something that got his attention, right before Brendon slammed into him one last time, stiffening and coming with a cry.

Brendon pulled out carefully, watching Spencer closely. Then he ruined it all by slumping down on top of him, dripping sweat and sucking in air. Spencer just smiled at him, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“I love you,” Brendon gasped, pressing his face into Spencer’s collarbone. Spencer tugged on a lock of hair and kissed his damp forehead, relieved. It could have been awkward, knowing; having seen it in there but not being said.

“I love you, too,” Spencer replied softly.

“I know,” Brendon returned. Spencer kicked at him.

“Get off me, you weigh a ton.”

“I do not!” Brendon yelped. “I am compact!”

“The word you are looking for is ‘dense’,” Spencer supplied helpfully.

“Way to ruin the moment, Spence,” Brendon pouted. Spencer kissed him sweetly before shoving him off to the side gracelessly.

“I know.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Spencer said, curling up around Brendon in a much more satisfactory position. Just as hot, way less heavy.

***

As spring break approached, Brendon got more and more frenetic. He was wound tighter than a drum, and the least little thing would set him off on a snarling tirade that often as not would burn out just as fast as it started. He made Spencer anxious, and he knew it was all because Brendon didn’t want to go home and his parents were still bugging him about it.

He was making stupid mistakes. For the most part they were little things, like suddenly being unable to boil water on demand, but sometimes it went the other way. Brendon blew so many things up in fire magic that Bob wondered crossly if he and Spencer had swapped bodies.

They were hurriedly assured that was not possible. But still. Spencer worried.

He had reason.

The unofficial electrical magic lessons with Mikey Way continued. Twice a month, Brendon would disappear for an afternoon and come back in varying states of disarray. He never looked as bad as he did when he finally told Spencer about his lessons with Mikey, but Brendon was often wet, and dirty, and Spencer wasn’t really sure if he wanted to know exactly how one learned electrical magic.

Spencer was at his desk, deep in the study of winds and air masses for a test in meteorology when he heard running in the hallway followed by someone banging on his door. He jumped up, happy to put away the air magic and silently grateful that he did not naturally contain any, as it was boring as hell.

He opened the door to find Mikey’s wife, Alicia, dripping wet and white as a sheet.

Spencer followed her without a word.

Alicia explained as she led Spencer to the Healing building. Brendon was hurt. He and Mikey had been working on controlling Brendon’s ability to Call Lightning, which he was apparently very good at--it seemed Brendon could Call _everything_ \--but he wasn’t very good at keeping it in. That was a thing for most people with electrical magic: once it came out, it always wanted to be out. Electrical magic was more about control. Brendon was not good at control on his best days. Distracted...

Spencer ran.

He burst into the Healing building and looked around frantically. It looked as it always did, everything in shades of pale green and all the healers very calm and relaxed. Spencer stood out like a sore thumb. He spun on his heel, casting about in all directions, looking for someone who might know where he could find Brendon.

As it was, he almost punched the guy who tapped him on the shoulder.

It was Gabe.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer squawked. Gabe merely smirked at him, making Spencer reconsider the not-punching-him thing.

“I’m an intern,” he replied.

“You’re creepy,” Spencer blurted out. He was immediately horrified, but Gabe just threw his head back and laughed, steering Spencer deeper into the building.

“It adds to my charm,” Gabe said, laughing.

Gabe led Spencer to a wing of the Healing building which he had never been in before. He was terrified of what he was going to find. How badly hurt was Brendon that he was way back in the bowels of the place?

Spencer and Gabe came to a halt in front of a room with a closed door. Spencer looked through the tiny window and spun around, alarmed.

“ _This is a hospital!_ ”

“We do have doctors here too, you know,” Gabe replied.

“But he’s--”

“He needed more than what Healing could give him.”

Spencer grew pale and still. Gabe almost reached out for him, but cut it off. Inside the room, Brendon lay in a bed with tubes coming out of his arm and his nose . All around him, machines beeped and blinked and whirred.

“I have to--” Spencer reached for the door but Gabe stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Let me check,” he said softly, and ducked his head inside. Gabe emerged, nodding. “Go ahead.”

Spencer crept into the room as if sound would hurt Brendon more. The doctors merely glanced his way before resuming their discussion too low for him to hear. A flare of irritation rose in his chest. If he wanted to hear, they couldn’t stop him. But he looked at Brendon, sleeping--or unconscious. He hoped Brendon was sleeping, and his anger ebbed away.

Spencer drew up a chair close to the bed and sat down, carefully taking Brendon’s hand. If he had been thinking he would have chosen the other side, with fewer tubes to avoid, but he wasn’t about to move.

Brendon was cold--that in itself was a shock. Brendon always ran hot; so much that sweaty was practically a personality trait. But he lay so still, too--something else that was so unlike Brendon that Spencer was reeling. He could feel his own palms getting sweaty and his breathing become rapid and shallow. It wouldn’t do for him to get all worked up.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, brushing the hair off Brendon’s forehead. One of the doctors turned.

“We can’t really tell you,” he said. Anger spiked through Spencer again, but he could see in the doctor’s face that it wasn’t personal. “His parents have been called in.”

Spencer leaped to his feet.

“What?” he shouted. The doctors looked taken aback by his outburst.

“He’s had a serious injury. His family have been notified.”

Spencer sunk back down into his chair and pressed his cheek to Brendon’s hand.

“This is so not going to go well.”

***

Spencer stayed with Brendon every free minute he could scrape up. He _had_ to go to class; they sent people for him if he didn’t show up on his own, but every other minute, he was there at Brendon’s side.

He had been able to finagle information out of Gabe, even though the doctors weren’t giving him any. Gabe liked to talk, and following rules wasn’t necessarily high on his list. Brendon had been struck by lightning. Spencer had figured as much, but Alicia had been vague, and Spencer hadn’t been able to connect with Mikey to get any details. He supposed Mikey was hiding from him.

Gabe was full of information. Sure, he was still creepy, and he made Spencer moderately uncomfortable with a knowing look in his eye, since Spencer was trying to get news about his _boyfriend_ , for fuck sake. But other than being highly inappropriate, Gabe ended up being an incredibly valuable source of information.

Brendon had gone into cardiac arrest, out there on the bluffs, alone with Mikey. He had lost consciousness and fallen, bumping his head, but not badly. It was more of a concern that his heart had stopped and he wasn’t breathing. Luckily, Mikey was a pro in emergencies; he had seen a few. He even had some sort of alarm rigged up with Alicia, who tended to stay out of harm’s way more often than not. That was how she had come into it. Mikey was a whiz at CPR and had Brendon’s heart going and got him breathing again by the time she had reached them.

Between the two of them they managed to get Brendon back to the Healing building. They were immediately onset by a pack of Healers who took care of the most immediate problems, but there is only so much that can be done with magic, so they took him back to the hospital.

Brendon was burned, but only superficially--little more than bad sunburn by the time the Healers were done with him. His heart was fine, but he had some difficulty breathing. Brendon’s lungs sustained some damage, forcing him to be placed on oxygen, but with care, they too should return to normal. He was short of breath, and that, with the tubes up his nose, was one thing that worried Spencer far more than he anticipated.

It wasn’t like Brendon lay in a hospital bed, unconscious and unable to fend for himself in any way. He was a little rough around the edges--well, a _lot_ , if Spencer let himself think about it, which he didn’t--but he wasn’t going to have any permanent damage. They were all being very careful about his lungs, and when Brendon was comfortable sitting up, it quickly became apparent that a ruptured eardrum left him with a little hearing damage and dizziness. Both of those things supposedly would work themselves out as well. It was just a matter of time.

It was also just a matter of time for Brendon’s parents to make their appearance.

It took three days, in all, for Brendon’s mother and father to make their way to the Academy. Spencer wondered sourly at that. They lived in _Las Vegas_ , for goodness sake, a mere fifty miles away, and their _child_ had been gravely injured. They couldn’t speed it up? Not that Spencer wanted them there, but he couldn’t imagine his own parents taking more than three _hours_ to get to the Academy if he needed them. He didn’t say anything about it, but he spent the time in Brendon’s room, holding his hand and watching his face and thinking bitterly about the Uries.

Spencer didn’t even have to turn around to know they had arrived. Brendon stiffened and began to cough. In the seconds before he pulled his hand away to cover his mouth, Spencer could tell that it was even sweatier than usual, and he was impossibly paler, the tender skin around his mouth tight. Brendon’s eyes held a mixture of hope and fear, and it was all Spencer could do to keep his head high, with Brendon looking like that, his parents outside the door speaking to the doctors.

Brendon tried sitting up further in the bed, struggling with the sheets and the tangle of tubes and wires still attached to his body. Spencer ached to reach for him and set it right, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t know what Brendon wanted him to do. Spencer stood politely when Brendon’s parents entered the room, but Brendon didn’t let him take more than a step. He caught at the back of Spencer’s shirt and held him in place.

Brendon’s mother swept in and gathered him up in her arms. Brendon laughed breathily and batted ineffectually at her. His features favored her greatly; they were both little and dark and prone to smile. Spencer would have known she was Brendon’s mother even without seeing them together. He clearly adored her, and Brendon was her baby.

Brendon’s father remained near the door. He cast a cold shadow on Spencer, and it made him want to actually shiver, cast it off. He stood silently, surveying the scene, and Spencer watched him in turn. It would be him they would have to deal with, when the time came, Spencer knew.

Brendon’s mother fussed over him and petted him and made a spectacle that no one would see but them. Brendon wriggled out of her grasp, panting a little too hard.

“Mom, please! Let me breathe,” he gasped. It had the desired effect, but it alarmed Spencer, who still stood motionless off to the side, trying to be nonchalant and utterly failing. His head whipped around at the sound of Brendon’s voice, laughing, but strained. It caught her attention.

“Brendon, who is this?” She smiled sweetly and stood with her hand outstretched to introduce herself. Her name was Grace. Spencer shook her hand politely and blushed furiously as he introduced himself in turn. Spencer hated himself. He was gutless, but he wouldn’t leave Brendon, not if he could help it. Brendon’s mother was apparently charmed. Spencer just blushed harder and tried not to grind his teeth.

Luckily, she didn’t want any details. Spencer was one of Brendon’s classmates and that was good enough. She turned back to him and sat down on the bed to look him over again. Spencer was forgotten.

“Oh, Boyd, look at him,” she said, smoothing Brendon’s hair down. “I knew something like this would happen.”

“ _Mom,_ ” Brendon began, but she cut him off.

“No, I was afraid of this. Somebody’s not as careful as he should be, and Brendon ends up hurt.”

“Mom, things happen. It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” Brendon tried to explain. “I got _struck by lightning_.”

“And you don’t know enough to come in out of the rain?” Grace snapped irritably.

“I can Call--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said with an air of finality. “This magic business was a bad idea from the start.”

“But--” Brendon was becoming agitated. His breathing was becoming more ragged, and Spencer hoped that it was his imagination that his lips were turning blue.

“No,” Grace stood, wiping her hands on her pants as if the hospital was dirty. “That’s enough. You’re coming home.”

Spencer was frozen. He couldn’t interject. There was no way. He couldn’t force himself into this argument between Brendon and his family. But they couldn’t take Brendon away from him, not when he needed him so badly. Spencer looked at Brendon as he digested his mother’s words. Brendon looked back at him.

“I’m not going,” Brendon replied. His mother just blinked.

“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned when Boyd Urie spoke. “There will be no argument. You are coming home with us. You will enroll at the university. You will get a job. Then we will go get Mary Claire.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Brendon struggled to sit up in bed again.

“You heard me.”

“I’m not doing it,” Brendon replied, chin raised obstinately.

“Yes, you are,” his father stated. “Or you are no son of mine.”

“ _Boyd, no!_ ” Grace gasped, reaching for Brendon, only to have him shake her off.

“Okay,” Brendon said calmly. “I’m not arguing.” Spencer’s heart sank. “I am _not_ coming home with you. Not now, and not ever. I am _not_ enrolling at the university. I’m going to finish here. I _will_ get a job, but not for you. And I most certainly am _not_ going to get this Mary Claire. I don’t want her; I’m in love with someone else.”

Spencer didn’t know if he wanted to blend into the wall or leap to Brendon’s side. They seemed to have forgotten about him, and he was sure any movement would draw their attention back to him. His heart was jackrabbitting in his chest like it had when he first heard of Brendon’s accident. This time, at least, Brendon was up and awake, even if he was staring down his father and breathing harder than he should.

“Oh, Brendon,” Grace murmured. “Who is it? Have you--”

“It’s Spencer, mom,” Brendon said bluntly. His mother dropped her hands and just looked between the two of them. “I’m sorry, but it’s Spencer. I love him,” he said, voice getting softer, plaintive. “I’m sorry I didn’t turn out the way you’d planned.”

Strangely, Grace turned her face to Spencer. She just looked at him for the longest moment. Her eyes were sad. That was how they were when the door clicked, and Spencer turned to see that Boyd had gone. When he looked back, tears streamed down Grace’s cheeks.

“You’re a good boy,” she said quietly, and Spencer didn’t know if she was speaking to Brendon or to himself. “I guess love is love. You can’t--” She sort of half chuckled, clearly trying not to cry harder. “Look at your father; you can’t choose.”

Spencer stood there in stunned silence. Brendon, too, obviously had no idea his revelation would have turned out like this. His father lost, but his mother... strangely okay with it? When he slipped his hand into Spencer’s, Spencer squeezed and averted his eyes. Grace’s tears came faster, and Spencer didn’t know if she was happy or sad or just confused, like him.

Eventually, she stood. She hugged Brendon, smoothing his hair and kissing his cheek. Then she reached over and patted their joined hands. She didn’t say anything more, but as she left, Grace looked them over. She drank them in with her eyes, as if it was the last time she would see them. It probably was.

Spencer heard clearly in his head, _You will always be my son; always welcome in my house._

Then she shut the door behind her and was gone.

Spencer sat down hard on the bed and Brendon let out a long, wavering sigh.

“Did you--Brendon?”

“She just--Spencer, she just--” Brendon shook his head. “Spencer, did she just Speak to us?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

Brendon’s hands started to tremble, and Spencer leaned in to wrap him up in his arms. Brendon’s whole body shook.

“I’m so sorry, B, I’m so sorry,” Spencer mumbled into Brendon’s hair as he gently rocked them. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what you wanted me to do. Now you’ve--”

“I haven’t lost them,” Brendon said suddenly. “You heard her.”

“I did.”

Brendon was silent for a very long time. Spencer thought he had fallen asleep, but when he looked down, Brendon’s eyes were open, staring out into space.

“It kind of explains a lot,” Brendon said finally.

“What do you mean?”

“That she can--that she’s a Violet or something,” Brendon replied.

“Do you think she is?” Spencer wondered. “Have you seen..?”

“No,” Brendon shook his head. “But you can hide a lot.” Spencer knew. Spencer _did_. Well, not hide, exactly, but he didn’t put his colors out on display, either. “And she always knew things. Like, what us kids had been up to, that she couldn’t possibly have known. I couldn’t get away with _anything_ ,” Brendon muttered sullenly. Spencer chuckled under his breath, earning him a sharp elbow to the ribs. “Kind of like with you.”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. He had to try again, and failed. He didn’t know what he wanted to say anyway, but Brendon seemed content to wait it out, resting in Spencer’s embrace.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” he said at last. “I’ve only ever really Searched you once, way back--”

“Yeah,” Brendon cut in. “I remember. When my magic came.”

“Since then, I don’t know, Brendon, you just sort of pull me in. It’s like your mind opens up and I can’t back off and I just kind of... fall in,” Spencer said all in a rush.

“What do you see?”

“A lot. Everything that’s at the front of your mind; what you’re thinking about,” Spencer admitted sheepishly. “I don’t get most of it.”

“Tell me about it,” Brendon mumbled. “How many times? How often has it happened?”

Spencer blushed hard, grateful that Brendon was curled into his chest and looking elsewhere.

“Um.”

That was clearly the wrong response because Brendon twisted in Spencer’s arms until he could look him full in the face. His head cocked, and if Spencer wasn’t avoiding Brendon’s eyes, he would be sure to see a devilish glint there.

“Spencer,” Brendon pressed. “When?” Spencer’s blush renewed itself, forcing a delighted yelp from Brendon’s mouth. “ _Oh my god!_ You can read my mind when we--”

Spencer put his fingers to Brendon’s lips to shush him.

“ _Yes!_ ” he hissed. “Now shut it before the entire building knows! This place isn’t soundproofed as well as the dorms are.”

Brendon dissolved into mirthful giggles, periodically gulping for air, but continuing on all the same. Spencer frowned at him and shook his head.

“Dude! This is _awesome!_ ” Brendon crowed.

“It doesn’t happen every time,” Spencer protested.

“But it’s how you know what I like, how to--”

“I know what you like because I pay attention,” Spencer retorted.

“Yes, but, like, how you know _exactly_...” Brendon broke off with a stifled moan. “Spencer, I’ve _missed_ you.”

“I’ve been here with you every day,” Spencer replied softly.

“I know,” Brendon whined. “But I want to get out of this bed. Want to get into yours.” Brendon squirmed closer, rubbing himself up against Spencer deliciously. “Want to suck you. Want to fuck you. Want to make you scream.”

“ _Brendon_ ,” Spencer groaned.

“That’s getting there.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Spencer said fondly, rubbing his back in a way that always made Brendon settle. “You’re still hurt.”

“But I still want you.” Brendon’s voice was getting low and scratchy, which always sent a signal straight to Spencer’s gut. Brendon made a move for Spencer’s pants, but he caught Brendon’s wrists, stopping him.

“No, it’s too much,” Spencer told him. Brendon cocked an eyebrow, and Spencer rolled his eyes at him. “Lay back. Let me.”

Brendon flopped back in the bed as if he had been waiting for just such a suggestion. Maybe he had. He twitched the hospital gown up over his erection with a flick of his wrist, baring himself to the waist and grinning like a loon. Spencer shook his head at him and smiled. What he wouldn’t do for Brendon...

Spencer leaned over and took Brendon into his mouth.

“Just don’t give me another heart attack.”

Spencer let Brendon’s cock slip out.

“Oh my god, shut up or I will kill you myself.”

Brendon laughed heartily. As Spencer leaned in again and mouthed gently at Brendon’s hot skin, Brendon slipped his fingers through Spencer’s hair. He didn’t push, he didn’t pull, he just rested there, moving with Spencer as he took him in long, firm sucks.

Brendon gasped, and Spencer released him again.

“Open up, Brendon. Let me hear you. Tell me what you want,” he said, hot breath fanning over wet skin. Brendon immediately started babbling under his breath. “No. Not that way,” Spencer said, shaking his head and letting his lips brush against the head of Brendon’s cock. Brendon shuddered and sagged, visibly trying to relax and let himself go. He’d never intentionally opened his mind to Spencer before, but he knew how to drop his shields. It was that, and a little more. It was like opening a door.

Then he was in.

Spencer dropped down and sucked the head of Brendon’s cock until he heard him curse and could see something forming in his mind. Spencer hummed happily, causing fully-formed thoughts to pop up left and right. What Brendon wanted, Spencer did. He relaxed his jaw and took in as much of Brendon’s cock as he could. It was slobbery and unpracticed, but Brendon loved it, his hips snapping up involuntarily a couple times until Spencer held him down. Brendon liked that, too, tangling his hands in Spencer’s hair and pulling, pushing, putting Spencer where he wanted him. Spencer let him.

When he came, Brendon shouted hoarsely, spurting into Spencer’s mouth. Spencer swallowed with a grimace, but watching Brendon shudder bonelessly was worth it. He didn’t usually, but Brendon wanted it, let him see that he wanted it.

Spencer sat up, rearranging Brendon’s clothes and the sheets. By the time he looked up, he had slipped out of Brendon’s mind and could only see what was on the outside. He smiled tentatively.

“So that’s--”

“Awesome,” Brendon said with a grin, stretching lazily. Spencer shrugged, dipping his head self-consciously.

“Are you okay?” Spencer wondered. Brendon grasped his hand tightly.

“Getting there.”


End file.
